


Silk and Steel

by EMorgaine



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-03-29 02:39:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3879004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EMorgaine/pseuds/EMorgaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen is the Commander of the Inquisition's forces. One evening he is visited by someone from his past in need of his help, bringing back both feelings and memories he thought long forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Guest

Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the military branch of the Inquisition and former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, was staring at the documents on his desk and trying not to notice how said desk wobbled slightly. He was not very successful. Any time he would shift his arms, which were resting on the desk, the blasted piece of furniture would shift slightly. It was infuriating. As far as he could remember, it hadn’t been like this earlier in the day. It was only after he’d returned from the evening meal that the wobble had occurred.

With a sigh, he gave up on reading his correspondence, and stood to have a look at his uneven desk. Putting his palm on one of the corners, he pushed lightly – the desk wobbled. Right, there was definitely something uneven, and he thought he’d seen where it was. Going down on all fours he looked underneath one of the desk’s legs, and found the culprit. A note had been double-folded and wedged below the leg, causing the desk’s slight movement.

“Sera,” he muttered under his breath as he pulled out the piece of paper. The young elf who had joined the Inquisition was fond of pranks, and he supposed that she’d deemed it his turn to be subjected to one. It was a good prank, he’d have to give her that. It had driven him crazy to have his normally sturdy desk move any time he did.

Before he could get back on his feet, the door opened and a hooded courier came into the chamber. Or, at least he thought it was a courier. They were wearing colours he didn’t recognize, and no discernible insignias or other symbols to show who they belonged to. Feeling a little bit silly, having been found on all fours, Cullen stood up while watching the stranger. They were quiet, just standing there, their face in shadow from the large hood on their cloak. It was a woman, he realized. She was fairly tall, dressed in what appeared to be a simple robe from what he could see beneath the heavy cloak.

“Can I help you?” he asked, maybe a bit more brusquely than planned, a little bit irritated that the stranger hadn’t said a word. It must be one of Leliana’s agents or couriers that he hadn’t met yet, he supposed.

“I hope so,” the woman said, and for a second he could have sworn that he recognized her voice. Then she took another step into the room and pulled back her hood. Looking into her all too familiar face made it feel like someone had just punched him in the guts. He’d never expected to see her again, not after the horrible things he’d said when they last saw each other in Ferelden’s Circle Tower.

“H… Hero of Ferelden,” he stammered, suddenly feeling like the young, foolish man he had been back then. Ten years… Had it really been that long? “I didn’t… I mean, **we** didn’t expect you. We recently received your note saying that you were busy elsewhere.”

She smiled faintly. He remembered that smile. Once upon a time he had coveted that smile. “Please… Call me Isabel. We were akin to friends once. I would like to think that’s not been lost just because I am now a Grey Warden.” Smiling again, she added, “Well, we both have new titles, it would seem.”

“It has been ten years, after all,” Cullen reminded her, smiling a little. Then he remembered himself and the smile disappeared. “And you’re more than just a Grey Warden, you’re the Warden-Commander. Why are you here? We didn’t think you would be coming.”

“I’m afraid I’m not here to help,” she said apologetically. “I hate to say it, but I require your help. Not long after I sent you that message, I ran into a spot of trouble… And as it turns out, I need somewhere to recuperate.”

“Recuperate?” he replied stupidly. That’s when he realized that she was looking rather pale and there was a tenseness about her that he’d not seen before. He’d been too busy reeling from the shock of seeing her at all, to notice.

She nodded. “Yes, and I must ask you a favor. Please don’t tell anyone that I’m here.”

“Of course,” Cullen agreed quickly. “But what is the matter with you?”

“I will explain in a moment,” she said, her voice suddenly tired, as if what remaining energy she’d had was drained. “Just… Let me rest for a moment.”

She took a step towards one of the room’s chairs, but faltered. For a precarious moment she swayed on the spot, before suddenly losing consciousness and falling. Cullen reached her just in time to keep her from smacking her head on the stone floors.


	2. Promises

 

 

It was odd to think that the Hero of Ferelden was lying on his bed, Cullen mused. The circumstances surrounding it, even odder. She was deadly still, and pale as a ghost. Had he not seen or heard her breathing, he could have mistaken her for dead. Cullen sat on a chair next to the bed, watching over her, waiting for her to waken. There was definitely something wrong with her, but he couldn’t call for a healer since she’d made him promise not to tell anyone that she was there.

            When he’d been a young templar and imagined her in his bed, this had definitely not been how he’d envisioned it. But then he shouldn’t have thought about it at all, since fraternization between mages and templars was frowned upon, to say the least. He’d been infatuated with her though, and the thoughts had come to him unbidden. Lewd thoughts that he’d been ashamed about, and never, ever acted upon. Duty was important to him then, it still was, but back then his duty had been to the Templar Order. So any untoward thoughts he’d had about the mage had to be pushed away. But sometimes, at night, when he had trouble sleeping the images of her had come to him anyway. The same images that later had been used against him when the tower fell prey to demons.

            Cullen shuddered suddenly. He didn’t want to think about those visions. The ones the demons had used to torture him. Much time had passed, and he’d finally come to terms with what had happened. For the first few years though… He’d hated mages. What they could do. What they could become. It took him a long time to be himself again, to trust, even a little bit. Mages had great power, that much was true, but that did not automatically make them evil.

            The last time he’d seen Isabel was when she’d saved him. She’d saved all of them. Or what was left at least. Most of the mages and templars in the tower had been killed or turned into abominations, but she’d saved anyone who was left. And he’d yelled at her for it. Told her to kill every last mage, just in case they were an abomination. It was a reaction born out of fear, but he was ashamed of it. She’d saved them, and he’d tried to have everyone killed.

            Leaning back in the chair, he rubbed his neck with one hand, looking at the woman lying on his bed. The years had been kind to her, she looked nearly exactly the way he remembered her, just a little bit older. She had a beautiful face with a straight nose, high cheekbones and arched eyebrows. Her blonde hair was pulled into a knot at the back of her head, the same style she’d favored back in the circle. It was worrying to see her so pale though, and he didn’t quite know what to do. He didn’t want to break her trust by revealing that she was at Skyhold, but he also didn’t want her to suffer.

            Sitting up straight as he heard the door downstairs open, Cullen realized that perhaps he may not have a choice in the matter. He quickly moved over to the ladder leading from his little loft to the downstairs room that served as his chambers/office. Standing by his desk was Leliana, the Inquisition’s Spymaster.

            “Is it truly her?” she asked, not even bothering to greet him.

            Cullen groaned. “How did you know?”

            Leliana shrugged. “I have eyes everywhere. You didn’t answer my question.”

            “It’s her,” Cullen said. “But she’s not here to help us. Truth be told… I’m not entirely sure why she’s here. I just know she needs help.”

            “Help? Why?” Leliana looked pointedly around the room. “And where is she? I know she didn’t leave.”

            Cullen nodded towards the ladder. “Up there. Asleep. Unconscious. I don’t know.”

            They climbed the ladder one after another, and once upstairs Leliana made a sound of distress as she saw her old friend lying pale on the bed. During the fifth blight the two had been very good friends, and Leliana had helped the Warden slay the Archdemon and end the blight.

            “She said she needed somewhere to recuperate, and then she dropped to the floor,” Cullen explained. “I don’t know what is wrong, and I didn’t know if I would dare to call in a healer since she explicitly asked me not to let anyone know she was here.”

            Taking off one of her gloves, Leliana touched her friend’s cheeks and forehead with the back of her hand. “She’s burning up,” she said grimly. “There’s a fever raging in her. We must do something.” She quickly divested of her other glove and unclasped the cloak that was still wrapped around the Warden. Once the cloak was off, she ran her hands down the mage’s body, looking for signs of injury or illness. When she brushed against the side of her, just above the waist, the Warden let out a pained noise in her sleep.

            “Here,” Leliana said. “I will have to find out what’s wrong.” Pulling a dagger from her belt she swiftly cut open the other woman’s dress and tore it apart. The moment her pale skin appeared, Cullen quickly turned around. He did not want to ogle her when she was unconscious. Actually, he should never want to ogle her.

            He heard Leliana move about behind him. “This can’t be good… That’s an ugly wound, and I think she’s been poisoned. We need to…” Her voice faltered. “Cullen?”

            “I want to help you,” he said. “But I don’t think it’s proper…”

            There was a smile in Leliana’s voice. “She’s perfectly covered up, I promise. I’ve made sure not to offend anyone’s modesty. Yours or hers.”

            Mainly his, Cullen supposed. Having grown up in a mage circle, Isabel would be used to undressing around others. The mage quarters were divided by title rather than gender, so you’d share your living area with both men and women. On the other hand, Templars were mainly men, and so they were automatically more modest. Suddenly Cullen felt very foolish. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen a body unclothed before, and the situation was anything but sexual. Somehow, it had just felt wrong to see Isabel without clothes. But if she was properly covered, he was really being just that – foolish.

            “Beg your pardon,” he murmured as he turned back around towards the bed. “I don’t know what came over me.”

            “You’re just a prude,” Leliana commented teasingly as he came to stand next to her.

Cullen smiled wryly. “I don’t think anyone’s ever tried to call me a prude before.”

“Oh, they have,” Leliana replied. “Just not to your face.”

“It does look bad,” Cullen agreed, and not only to change the subject. The Warden’s chest was neatly covered with the remnants of the top of her robe, while the skirts still clung to her hips and down her legs. There was an ugly gash in her right side, just below the ribs. The gash was obviously in a bad shape, the area swollen and red, but worse than that were the dark, purple lines that veined their way across her abdomen. They created an intricate web that seemed to creep its way further and further across her body, some of the branches even disappeared below the hem of her skirts, and up towards her chest.

“I don’t know what kind of poison it is, I will have to do some research.” Leliana sighed. “I will have some hot water and herbs delivered to you by one of my most trusted people. You will have to clean her wound and dress it. In the meanwhile, I will try to figure out which poison this is and how we can cure it. If she wakes up and can tell us, find me.”

Cullen nodded grimly, as Leliana started down the ladder. Before her head disappeared below, she added, “Cullen… Don’t let her die.”

“I won’t,” he promised, while praying that it wasn’t a promise that he would have to break.


	3. Poisoned

 

            “Cullen?”

            Jerking upright, Cullen realized that he’d dozed off in his chair. The room was dark, except for a candle burning on the small barrel serving as a table next to the bed. Isabel was awake in the bed, and had sat up, leaning against a pillow propped against the wall. A bandage covered her abdomen now, Cullen had wrapped it around her after cleaning out her wound earlier in the evening.

            “Isabel?” he queried softly, leaning closer to the bed so that he could see her better. Her green eyes were still a bit glazed from the fever, but they seemed focused and awake.

            “I must have fainted,” she said apologetically. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

            “Don’t worry yourself about it,” Cullen said. “Leliana knows that you’re here, and she’s trying to find a cure for whatever has poisoned you.”

            Isabel nodded slowly, her movements were still measured, as if she was trying not to expend too much energy. “I came here to find her originally, but I didn’t want to enter the main keep. Then I saw you walking into this tower, and realized it was a much better option. Less likelihood of someone seeing me.”

            “I’m impressed that no one saw you enter Skyhold,” Cullen admitted, only to grimly add. “Actually, I’m rather unhappy that you could, it means that we are not as safe as we should be.”

            “I came in with another group. Fortunately, no one really knows what the Hero of Ferelden looks like, so I can travel with a fair amount of anonymity.”

            “I would ask you what happened to you, but I know that Leliana would like to know as well. To save your strength, it’s best if you only have to tell your story once.” Cullen stood up and walked over to the open window where a raven sat waiting. “I’ll send her a message. I suspect she will be here shortly.”

            He released the raven out the window with a quickly scrawled message, then walked back to the bed. Isabel had leaned her head back against the wall, and her eyes were shut. “Does it hurt?” he asked her quietly.

            She smiled wryly, but didn’t open her eyes. “More than I care to admit.”

            They were quiet for a moment. Isabel taking measured breaths, presumably to handle her pain, and Cullen standing next to the bed feeling helpless for not being able to do more for her. And maybe a little bit guilty for the odd stab of jealousy at her admission that she’d come searching for Leliana and not him. It was foolish of him though, why would she seek him out? Yet they had been something similar to friends in the circle, before she had left to join the Wardens. Before the circle had broken and he with it. Not close friends, by any means, since that was very much discouraged. The templars were there to guard and watch over the mages, and if too friendly, would be deemed unable to stay impartial. But they’d been friendly.

            “I was happy to see you, you know.” The quiet words uttered by Isabel almost made him jump. He’d been so deep in his thoughts. She continued, her voice still quiet, “I knew that Leliana was with the Inquisition, but I hadn’t realized that you were. When I saw you walking across the bridge to your tower… I was so happy, and so relieved to see a friendly face. Someone I knew.”

            “I’m surprised you see me that way,” Cullen admitted. “The last time we saw each other. When you came back… and saved us. Saved me.” He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t a good man right then. I wasn’t in my right mind. I said things…”

            She opened her eyes to look at him, her gaze clear and without anger or accusation. “You had been through a terrible ordeal,” she said, and surprised him by reaching up and taking his hand in hers. “I never blamed you for those words. As much as I disagreed with them, I could understand where they were coming from… And I know that you’re a good man. You were just… lost.”

            It was as if a weight had fallen from his shoulders. As far as he had come, as much as he had learned about himself and grown. Away from the hatred and mistrust, the paranoia and fear that every mage was a blood mage… He had always regretted the way he had spoken to the Warden in their last meeting. Hated knowing how she’d seen him like that. A disgrace to himself and the Templar Order that he believed in.

            “I wasn’t a good man for quite some time after that,” he admitted. Slowly removing his hand from hers, and letting hers down to rest on the bed, he smiled wryly. “The events in Kinloch Hold broke me, and it took me a long time to mend. To become me again. There were several years when I wanted stricter measures taken against mages, and I suspected nearly every mage of being a blood mage. So no, I was not a good man then.”

            “As I said… lost.” Isabel looked at him, her gaze never wavering. “I heard about your part in the events in Kirkwall. You stood up for what was right.”

            “Too little, too late.”

            “It was an untenable situation. After what you experienced… I’m glad that you found yourself at all. When I found you in the tower… What they had done to you.”

            Cullen looked away, unable to meet her eyes right then. They both knew that the demons had tortured him with visions. Horrible visions. Some of them of her. When she’d first appeared in the tower to save them all, he’d still believed her to be one of his twisted visions. She didn’t know the actual content of the visions, but while still believing her part of one, he had revealed his impossible infatuation with her, and how they were using it to torture him.

            “Please,” he said quietly. “Let’s not talk about it.”

            He was saved from her answer by the sound of Leliana coming through the door downstairs. A moment later she had climbed up to the loft, and moved swiftly over to the bed to embrace her friend. They hugged each other for a long time, without uttering a word. Cullen supposed that it had been quite a while since they had last seen each other as well. Finally, Leliana let go of her friend and sat down on the lower end of the bed.

            “I think it’s time that you told us what happened,” she said.

            Isabel nodded. “I can’t tell you much, but I will say what I can. As you may know, I’ve been looking for a cure to the calling. I think there may be a way to cure it, since through time two people have escaped it. We just need to figure out how.”

            “Do you feel it?” Leliana interrupted, a note of worry in her voice. “Now that you’re here, do you hear the false calling from Corypheus?”

            “I do,” Isabel replied slowly. “But I know what is causing it, and I can resist. At least for now. My search brought me west, and this is where I can’t divest too much information. But I ran into trouble… An ambush. I managed to defeat them, but not before they had grazed me with one of their blades.”

            “I would call that chunk of your side missing a bit more than having been ‘grazed’”, Cullen muttered angrily.

            “It wouldn’t be so bad, if not for the poison,” Isabel said. Looking at Leliana, she added, “I’m afraid I have no idea what kind of poison it is, but I brought you the blade that struck me. It’s coated in it, so be careful… But maybe you can recognize the poison when you have it.”

            “It’s definitely a good start,” Leliana said grimly. “Where is the blade?”

            “I hid it outside Skyhold. Underneath the large rock on the other side of the bridge.”

            “I will deal with it,” Leliana promised. “In the meanwhile, you should rest. Preserve your strength. Cullen will take care of you.”

            “No one can know I’m here,” Isabel urged.

            “No one will know,” Cullen said. “Leliana and I will make sure of it.”

            Isabel smiled, albeit weakly. “Thank you.”

With that, she closed her eyes again, and seemed to slip back into sleep. Leliana motioned for Cullen to join her downstairs. They slipped down the ladder and waited a moment in silence to make sure that Isabel was still sleeping.

“I will find that weapon and figure out what kind of poison has been used,” Leliana said, her voice low. “In the meanwhile, I need you to take care of Isabel. It seems to be a slow working poison, so she’s safe for the time being…” She trailed off, lost in thought for a moment. “Still, I don’t want her to be alone. She’s obviously too weak to take care of herself properly.”

“She did make her way here,” Cullen reminded her.

“Yes, but it seems to have taken all the strength she had left.”

“Maybe we should move her to her own room?” Cullen suggested. “There are other towers that sit empty, and we wouldn’t risk anyone noticing her when visiting my office.”

Leliana shook her head. “Not yet. Maybe later. For now, I would want her under supervision, in case she gets worse.”

“It’s just…” Cullen cleared his throat. “I don’t have a spare bed. People would notice if I suddenly start sleeping in the castle.”

“I need you to look after her,” Leliana reminded him. “That means staying close by.”

“Right. Of course.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand. “I’ll just sleep in the chair or on the floor.”

Leliana’s perceptive blue eyes searched his, which made him look away. She knew as well. When Isabel had found him in the tower, out of his mind from being tortured with visions, Leliana had been there too. She’d heard him confess to visions of Isabel. Having been tempted by visions of Isabel.

“Cullen…” she said slowly, tentatively.

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly. “I will keep an eye on her. There is no doubt in my mind that she will keep quiet, letting me still receive messengers and the like in my office during the days. So, it will not be an issue.”

The Spymaster regarded him silently for another moment. It looked as if she wanted to say something, but decided against it. Finally she turned to leave. “I will deliver some supplies when no one will notice,” she said over her shoulder.

Cullen breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind her. There was nothing he wanted less than to talk about the visions he’d had in the circle tower. Not all of them had been of Isabel, of course. The demons had tried to break his mind in any way possible. They were nothing if not imaginative. The visions had been as varied as the demons. Some visions had been of his fellow Templars and mages lying dead on the floor around him. Truth be told, some of those weren’t even visions – they had slaughtered most of the inhabitants in the circle, and turned a lot of the mages into abominations. The visions of Isabel had altered between using her as a temptation, offering him everything he had ever wanted… Or showing her dead, usually by his own hands.

Shaking his head slightly, as if it could make the memories go away, Cullen looked up at the entrance to the loft. It was difficult to believe that the main element of his torture all those years ago was now lying in his bed.


	4. Nightmares

_“I’m here to save you.”_

_Cullen looked up from his misery to see Isabel standing in front of him. She was wearing a tattered mage’s robe which had been torn in so many places it was barely a robe at all anymore. He shook his head._

_“No. You’re not real.”_

_She smiled, that lovely smile that made her green eyes twinkle. “Of course I’m real, you silly man.”_

_Slowly, she came closer to him, the tattered remnants of her robe parting to reveal a pair of shapely legs as she moved. When standing before him, she raised her arm to put her hand on his cheek. It was soft and warm. For a brief moment, Cullen closed his eyes and leaned into that cupped hand. Reveling in the comforting feeling against his cheek. But just for a moment. Steeling himself, remembering what was real and what was not he resisted the temptation to just give up and give himself to the fake world around him._

_Opening his eyes again, he gazed into what looked like Isabel’s eyes, but were not. “Go away,” he said, quietly at first, then again, more forcefully. “Go away! You’re not real!”_

_Isabel’s hand fell from his cheek and a look of anger took form on her face. Her green eyes turned black, the darkness filling every space of the once beautiful eyes. Possessed. “One day,” she said, but the voice was no longer hers. “One day, I will break you Cullen. And your soul will be mine, just like all the other fools in this tower.”_

_His strength drained, Cullen fell to his knees, resting his head in his hands. He closed his eyes, fisted his hands by his temples and yelled. “Go away!”_

 

Cullen awoke with a start. He stared into the darkness of the room for a while, taking a moment to remember where he was. Not in Kinloch Hold. Not ten years ago. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. So, those dreams were back. He’d started having nightmares shortly after he stopped taking lyrium, but this was the first time in years he’d dreamt of the illusions from the tower. He supposed he should be grateful it wasn’t one of the worst ones.

            “Bad dream?” The soft question startled him. For a moment he’d forgotten that he wasn’t alone. It had been years since he had spent the night in the same room as someone else. As the Knight-Captain, and later Knight-Commander, of Kirkwall, one of the benefits that came with the elevated title was your own room, away from the Templars’ dorms.

            “I’ve had worse,” he replied dryly. His eyes had become accustomed to the darkness of the room, and he could see Isabel’s silhouette on the bed. She was sitting cross-legged with her back leaning against the wall.

            “Couldn’t sleep myself,” she admitted. “This false calling is giving me nightmares. It’s very similar to when there’s a Blight. Only I know this time it’s not real.” Her head turned towards him. “What are your dreams about?”

            _I dreamt of a demon version of you trying to seducing me._ Cullen cleared his throat, glad that the dark covered up his blushing cheeks. Right, he couldn’t very well say that. “I don’t remember,” he lied.

            “Well, whatever it was… It was nothing pleasant.” Isabel shifted slightly in the bed. “I could hear you thrashing about.”

            “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

            “Oh no! As I said, I was already awake.” There was a smile in her voice, and Cullen caught himself wishing he could see it. Immediately after, he cursed himself for such foolishness. Isabel Amell was not someone he should have such thoughts about, and he’d do well to remember it.

            A muffled whimper escaped her then, and Cullen sat up straighter. “Are you in a lot of pain?” he asked. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

            “I think there was a nasty smelling potion among the supplies Leliana delivered,” Isabel said, sounding tired. “It was supposed to help for the pain. If you wouldn’t mind finding it for me…”

            “Certainly,” Cullen said, standing up from the bedroll where he was sleeping on the floor. Walking over to the other side of the bed, he found the candle on the barrel and lit it. Isabel squinted against the sudden light, soft as it was, then pointed to a bag lying in a corner.

            It only took Cullen a few moments to find the glass vial in the bag, as well as a spoon and a little accompanying note that instructed to take three spoonfuls for the pain. Isabel watched him in the flickering light from the candle as he walked back to her and sat down at the edge of the bed. Something about the way she looked at him, made him feel a lot more naked than he was. He’d divested of his breastplate, braces and boots, but was still wearing an open-neck dark shirt and his breeches. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought she was admiring his chest, visible through the opening of his shirt.

            “Thank you,” she said after he’d given her three spoons of the vile potion. After every spoon she’d grimaced horribly, which made him suspect that it tasted as foul as it smelled.

            He put the spoon and vial on the barrel next to the candle. “It was no trouble. Besides,” he said, smiling at her. “Leliana would have my head if I didn’t care for you properly.”

            That made her chuckle. “Very true. We can’t have that.” She closed her eyes again and leaned her head back against the wall. The potion seemed to work quickly, because her features were already relaxing, and she seemed to be in less pain. “After all,” she mumbled drowsily, “it is a very handsome head.”

            Cullen would have asked if he heard her correctly, but she was asleep the very next moment. Maybe the potion had some odd side-effects, he mused. Carefully moving her, he lay Isabel down flat on the bed instead of letting her lean heavily against the wall. She was in enough pain as it was, without adding an aching back and neck to it.

            Walking back to his own spot on the other side of the room he lay down on his bedroll. Had the Hero of Ferelden really said that she found him handsome? A silly grin split his face. He was being foolish again, but maybe he could allow himself some foolishness. If only for a moment. In the morning he would think more clearly, certainly.


	5. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's driving me crazy how sometimes my formatting will carry over, and other times it will not (when I paste it to AoO). So apologies if this one looks a little odd. I've tried pasting it over half a billion times now (it feels like that at least), and it just won't do the proper formatting. Hopefully it's still readable! Also, thanks for all the kudos so far! I really appreciate any kudos/reviews I get!

Isabel Amell, Warden-Commander of the Grey Wardens and Hero of Ferelden lay in bed and refused to open her eyes to face the day. Because she was mature and collected like that. She’d woken up a few minutes ago, and she could hear Cullen moving around the room, obviously trying to be as silent as possible. Had she really said that he had a handsome head before she drifted off to sleep last night? It was mortifyingly embarrassing if that was the case, and the reason that she couldn’t quite bring herself to let him know that she was awake.

            Hearing some splashing noises, she carefully pried one eye open to see what Cullen was up to, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He’d poured some fresh water into a bowl and was washing off his face after apparently having shaved it. And he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Isabel’s mouth suddenly felt dry. Must be from the potion she’d taken for her pain last night. Surely it had nothing to do with Cullen’s bare chest. His very well-defined, bare chest. All of that combat training must be paying off, because she could see the ripple of muscles playing underneath his skin as he brought a towel up to dry off his face. A few drops of water had escaped and were winding their way down his torso, tracing the muscles in his abdomen to finally get soaked up by the waistline of his breeches.

Isabel swallowed painfully. Cullen removed the towel and his eyes locked with hers. She’d always liked his eyes, they were a honeyed brown, framed by thick, dark lashes. Not so stealthy with her looking at him then, she thought sheepishly. To be fair, she was probably closer to staring at him by now. Ogling, some might have said.

“Oh, I apologize,” he said, ever polite. “Did I wake you?”

She shook her head. “No.” Was that croak really her voice? Taking a moment to sit up to where she could lean against the wall, she tried again, her voice sounding more normal now. “Well, maybe, but I suspect it’s time to wake up anyway.”

Cullen frowned. “You really should be resting.”

“There’s only so much resting one can do,” Isabel replied, keeping her voice cheerful. Truth be told, as boring as it was to stay in bed, she doubted her body was up for much else. The poison was draining her of most of her energy, and every movement was painful.

Cullen was still frowning, but he didn’t argue with her. Instead he began dressing, something which made her both happy and disappointed. It did allow her a few more moments of looking at him without him noticing though. He was tall and muscular, with wide shoulders and narrowed hips. Back at the circle tower he’d been a good looking, young man. The years had added a maturity to him now, which had turned him into an exceptionally handsome man. He had a scar that was new to her, starting at the right corner of his upper lip and angling up towards his cheekbone. His blond hair was slightly curly, kept short, but with enough length that one would probably easily grab a fistful… Isabel nearly choked on her own thought.

“Please stop staring at me,” Cullen said suddenly. He was sitting on a chair, pulling on his boots, and wasn’t even looking at her.

So maybe not without him noticing then. “I’m sorry,” she said, fighting back a blush. “I’m just trying to get used to how you look now, compared to when we both lived in the tower.” That made sense, didn’t it? Certainly a lot more sense than “ _sorry, I’m just staring at you while mentally drooling_ ’.

He stood up, fastened a belt around his waist and then stopped to look at her. A smile was playing around his lips. She’d always enjoyed that little half-smile of his. The one that was there, yet not quite. “And how am I looking?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in question.

 _Like I want to ravish you._ No, not a viable answer. _Handsome._ Still pretty forward. _Like I want you to ravish me._ No wait, that was no better than the first one. Awkward really should be her middle name. She was the Hero of Ferelden, and she turned into a blubbering fool in the presence of an attractive man. He was still looking at her expectantly, so at least she’d not blurted any of them aloud.

“You look the same only…” she trailed off, trying to find the right words.

“Older?” Cullen supplied helpfully.

She made a face. “I was going to say mature.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” He was smiling now.

“It is,” she agreed. “But at the same time it’s not. I’m not saying that you look old and haggard. You look older and more mature.” She sighed. “I’m bunging this up. What I’m trying to say is that you were still very young back in the circle. Now you’re an adult.”

“I was not yet twenty then,” Cullen agreed. “You're not wrong.”

“I can’t explain it,” Isabel complained, feeling frustrated by her own inability to articulate herself without basically saying ‘ _you’re hotter now’_. “I feel like I’m just making things worse by trying. I’m really not trying to sound like an arse, insulting your looks.”

Cullen smiled a little again. “I’m not insulted. It’s been more than ten years since we saw each other. It would be strange if we looked the same as we did back then. And I do look older and more haggard now,” he added with a chuckle.

“Older yes, haggard no,” Isabel said. “And older isn’t a bad thing. As I said, you’ve matured. That’s meant as a compliment.” When it didn’t look like he quite agreed with her, she let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, I’m trying to say that I think you’re a handsome man, more handsome now even than back then. But I’m trying to not be so obvious about it. However, subtlety apparently is not my forte, and I just seem to insult you.”

Was she imagining it, or was his cheeks flushing slightly? He reached up to rub the back of his neck with one hand while looking slightly ill at ease. Great, she’d made him uncomfortable. Way to make things feel awkward, Amell!

“Thank you,” he said after a moment. “For the compliment. It was unexpected.”

Isabel made a face. “I made things awkward. I’m sorry. I’m really bad at these things. Ask me to kill an Archdemon or slay a horde of darkspawn, and I’m your woman. But have me in a conversation with an attractive man and I’m the most awkward person you’ve ever met.”

“I’d never have guessed,” Cullen admitted, he was looking at her now, his honey-brown eyes unreadable.

“Really?” She let out a self-deprecating laugh. “My awkward attempts at chatting you up in the circle tower didn’t tip you off?”

“I don’t remember you ever trying to chat me up. Except that one time…”

“Oh, I remember that!” She laughed in earnest now. “I was coming off the high of passing my Harrowing, and obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. At least you were polite enough to pretend to have business elsewhere!”

Cullen’s mouth twisted into something in between a smile and a grimace. “You mean I ran.”

“Was I that repulsive?” Isabel teased him, jokingly.

Suddenly his face was serious, and the smile faded from her lips. The way he was looking at her, she couldn’t quite read it. “You were beautiful then, and you’re beautiful now,” he finally said, his words slow. “But you were one of my charges, and it would have been highly improper. You must know that I wanted you though. I said as much when you came back and found me in that magical prison.”

It was Isabel’s turn to blush. She did remember. He’d been so out of his mind that he’d thought her a twisted vision at first. Conjured to tempt him with what he could not have. “I’m sorry,” she said earnestly. “It was a bad joke. As I said, awkward. That’s me.”

She wanted to ask if he still wanted her, but she was too shy to be that forward. They looked at each other for another moment, his honey-brown eyes locked with her green ones. Cullen was the first to look away.

“There is a lot to do, so I have to go downstairs to my office,” he said. “I have a meeting in the war room in a little bit. Would you like me to bring you back some books to read? I believe there are some in the castle that I could borrow.”

Isabel smiled, relieved that they had changed the topic. “That would be lovely. I suspect I will grow bored fairly quickly lying alone here in bed.”

For a moment, Cullen looked at her, then the bed. He swallowed visibly, then turned around. “I will see what I can bring back,” he said, and quickly made his way down the ladder to the floor below.

Smiling to herself, Isabel lay back down in the bed. He’d said that she was beautiful, and she could almost have sworn that he had imagined her not alone in the bed a moment ago. She listened to Cullen rifling through papers in his office. It didn’t take long before she was dozing off, now and then waking up to hear a messenger bringing papers or a visitor coming to discuss something.


	6. Antidote

“I have the antidote!”

            Cullen looked up from his desk to see Leliana striding into the office, a big smile on her face and a vial in her left hand. A rush of relief washed over him, and he realized that he’d been more worried about them possibly not being able to cure Isabel than he’d wanted to admit, even to himself.

            “Then what are you waiting for?” Isabel called cheerfully from the loft. “Get up here and heal me!”

            Laughing, Leliana climbed the ladder, with Cullen following closely behind. Isabel was sitting propped up in the bed with one of the books he’d brought back in her lap. A few more books were piled on top of the barrel next to her. Her face was still pale, but she looked to be in good spirits.

            “It took me some time, but I eventually found the right poison,” Leliana explained as she was measuring the right amount of the antidote in a small glass. “This is a rare poison, and would kill most people. I’m actually amazed that you’re still alive. The only ones I know who are resistant to this poison are darkspawn.” She gave the Warden a calculated look. “You’re obviously no darkspawn, and you’re not fully resistant. Whatever it is in you that’s working against the poison is making it work slower, but had we not found the antidote, you would eventually have succumbed to it.”

            Isabel nodded slowly, and Cullen suspected that she knew exactly why the poison wasn’t working as quickly on her as it was on regular people. The Wardens had plenty of secrets that weren’t shared with the rest of the world, and he supposed this was one of them.

            “This will cure you within a couple of days,” Leliana promised as she handed the glass to Isabel. “You need to take another dose tomorrow, but that should be it. However,” she cautioned. “It will be at least a fortnight until your strength has returned, so I would suggest staying here until then.”

            “That sounds like a wise course of action,” Cullen agreed, not liking the idea of a weakened Isabel leaving on her own.

            Quaffing the antidote quickly, Isabel grimaced. “That tasted even fouler than the one for the pain.”

            “It would,” Leliana remarked. “Considering what’s in it.”

            “Do I want to know?” Isabel asked.

            “No,” Leliana admitted with a sheepish smile. “Now, if you’re going to stay here for a fortnight, I think we need a cover story. It will be nigh impossible to hide you for that long, and you said that you don’t want anyone knowing who you are.”

            “A cover story makes sense,” Isabel nodded. “I don’t think anyone here knows me other than you two, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. The Grey Wardens present shouldn’t recognize me, but just in case, I will try to steer clear of them.”

            “Oh, you still need to stay in bed for at least another couple of days,” Leliana said quickly. “Once the antidote has cleared your body of the poison, then you can start moving around.”

            “Who will we say she is?” Cullen pondered.

            Leliana looked at him, then at Isabel. “Well…” she said slowly, obviously thinking. “You’re both blonde. Maybe we could say that she’s your sister, Mia, come to visit?”

            Cullen nearly choked. “My sister?” he repeated incredulously.

            The idea of thinking of Isabel as a sister in any manner seemed wrong in so many ways. Leliana met his gaze, and for a moment he could have sworn that she knew exactly what he was thinking.

            “Is there a problem, Cullen?” she asked shrewdly, and he suspected that she probably did have an idea of what he was thinking.

            “No,” he muttered. “It’s a perfect cover story. No one would question why she slept in my chambers if they were to discover her.”

            Leliana grinned and clapped her hands together. “Perfect! That’s settled then!”

            Isabel raised a dark eyebrow. “I don’t get a say in this?”

            “None at all,” Leliana confirmed happily before giving her friend a quick hug. “I will have someone bring some food for supper. Now that we don’t have to be quite so careful about anyone seeing you, I can get you a proper meal.”

            “How about a bath?” Isabel called after her friend as Leliana expertly slid down the ladder.

            “I’ll see what I can do!” Leliana’s happy voice returned from downstairs.

            They heard the door close below, and Isabel smiled up at Cullen. “So, brother?” she teased him.

            Cullen groaned. “Please, don’t call me that.”

            “Oh, thank the Maker,” Isabel said, sounding relieved. “I really don’t see you as a brother.”

            The remark made him stare at her, and she blushed slightly. “I mean… Ah…” her voice trailed off, and then she sighed. “Bugger it, I always say the most awkward things.”

            “It’s alright,” Cullen interjected when it seemed like she might go on. “I don’t see you as a sister.”

            “Right! Of course!” Her face brightened with a smile. “We knew each other in the Circle, and I don’t think I’d ever be able to view a Templar as a brother. No offense!”

            “None taken,” Cullen promised. That hadn’t been at all what he meant, but he wasn’t going to make a fool out of himself by clarifying. “Anyway, I must get back to work.”

            Isabel nodded. “I won’t keep you. These books are turning out to be good company. It’s been a long time since I had the time to sit down and read.” She smiled warmly. “Thank you for bringing them to me.”

            “It was nothing,” Cullen mumbled as he quickly retreated. Whenever she smiled like that, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. Best put some distance between himself and temptation.


	7. A Game of Chess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who's reviewed/favourited/left kudos so far. I appreciate every single one of you! My goal is to publish one chapter per week. Since I'm writing two fics simultaneously (this one and Bowstrings and Velvet with Alistair/Cousland), I've decided to change the day that I publish this one, since they've both been on the same days so far. It makes it easier for me to keep up! So Silk and Steel will from nowon be published on Thursdays, while Bowstrings and Velvet will remain on Mondays. Since I don't want you to have to wait an extra few days next week though, you're getting the next chapter already today.

* * *

 

Cullen carefully pried the door to his office open, listening for the telltale signs of someone bathing. Nothing. Relieved, he opened the door fully and went inside. Earlier in the evening Leliana had made sure a copper tub was delivered and filled with water for Isabel to bathe in. Since no one cared to lug it up the ladder to the loft, it had been left on the floor of his office, and so he’d made himself scarce to allow Isabel some privacy.

            The tub was sitting on the floor, but no Isabel was in sight. He could hear her humming quietly from the loft, so she was close by. Walking over to the tub he dipped a couple of fingers in and was pleasantly surprised to find it still warm. Glancing over at the opening to the loft he considered whether or not he could take a bath himself.

            “Isabel?” he called out. “Do you mind if I… If I take a bath?”

            The humming stopped, she must not have realized that he had returned. “Go ahead,” she called back, a few moments later. “The water should still be warm enough since I had it quite hot.” There was a few more moments of silence, and then she added mischievously, “I promise not to peek!”

            Cullen cursed himself for blushing from such a simple jest. “I trust you to do the honorable thing,” he retorted as he began divesting himself of his armor and clothes. His comment made her laugh, and the sound made him smile.

            Lowering himself into the tub, Cullen closed his eyes to enjoy the water easing his muscles. The tub wasn’t very big, and the water only reached his chest, but it was better than nothing. Using a soap and a piece of cloth he quickly washed himself off, then rinsed his hair. Getting out of the tub, he dried himself off with a towel, only to realize that all of his clean clothes were up on the loft.

            “Uh… Isabel? Would you mind throwing down some clothes for me?”

            He heard her get up and move around, and he felt guilty for making her do so. She was meant to be resting. A moment later a pair of tan breeches came sailing down, and he quickly put them on. He almost began to think that no shirt would appear, when finally one dropped down and got trapped on one of the steps of the ladder. After putting it on, he walked around the office and blew out the candles keeping it lit. When the only source of light was that coming from upstairs, he moved back to the ladder.

            “Are you decent up there?” he asked, just to be sure.

            Isabel chuckled. “Yes, Leliana has given me the most demure nightgown you’ll ever see.”

            It was true, Cullen thought as he entered the loft. The nightgown she was wearing was big and without form, with long sleeves and a collar that covered her all the way to her neck. She was beautiful though, and Cullen found himself standing frozen at the top of the ladder for what seemed like minutes. She was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, the large nightgown billowing around her. The antidote seemed to work fast, because some color had returned to her cheeks, and she looked more alive than she had since she’d arrived.

            And then there was her hair. Cullen swallowed with difficulty. He’d never seen her with her hair out, always with her hair tied back in a bun. She’d not done anything with it after her bath, and it was flowing down her back to her waist in large, blonde tresses, much longer than he’d ever imagined. His fingers itched to run his hands through it. Oh, Maker give him strength.

            “When finding your clothes, I discovered that you have a chess board. Would you please play a game with me?” Isabel asked him with a smile. “The books are great, but I wouldn’t mind some company for a while.”

            Realizing that he must be staring, Cullen finally moved. “Certainly. Let me get it.” Turning his back to her to find the chess set he cursed himself for being so distracted by her. He had no right to have such feelings. Not back at the Circle Tower, and not now. Finding the pieces, he brought them back to bed with him, and set the board up between them.

            “I should warn you,” he said. “I’m quite good at this.”

            “Oh?” Isabel smiled, her green eyes twinkling.

            Cullen ignored the fluttering in his stomach. “Yes, I played a lot as a child.”

            Having chosen the white pieces, Isabel made her first move, then looked at him expectantly. “Do tell,” she urged him.

            He laughed, as he pushed one of his pieces forward. “I used to play with my sister, she would get this stuck-up grin whenever she won. Which was _all_ the time. My brother and I practiced for weeks at one point. Oh, the look on her face the day I finally won.”

            “So, at least one brother and one sister,” Isabel remarked as she made her move, keeping her eyes on the board. “Any others?”

            “Two sisters, and one brother.” Thinking about his family reminded him of how long it had been since he’d contacted them. “Between the Templars and the Inquisition I haven’t seen them in years. I wonder if Mia still plays…”

            “You could write her and ask,” Isabel suggested with a smile, then placed one of her pawns into an offensive position.

            “I could,” Cullen agreed, smiling as he saw Isabel frown when he easily countered her move.

 

*******

 

She was being thrashed, Isabel concluded as she watched Cullen expertly outmaneuver her every move on the chess board. For possibly the first time in her life, she didn’t mind losing though, because Cullen was relaxed and laughing with her. It was the first time she could remember him laughing ever, and the sound of it made strange things to her insides.

            Positioning one of her pawns in yet another futile attempt to put him on the defensive, she dared a glance. He was sitting on the bed with one leg over the side and the other bent in front of him, facing the board that divided them. At the moment he was regarding the board intently, obviously plotting several steps ahead. Chess had never been something Isabel was particularly good at, but she was enjoying playing with Cullen nonetheless.

            His blond hair was still damp, curling it a little more than usual. A couple of wayward curls were determined to fall over his forehead, and every time he would push them back. Isabel had the hardest time not reaching over the chess board to do it herself. When observing the game his lips softened and a smile played at the corners of his mouth as he was no doubt plotting her demise.

            If she wasn’t careful, she was going to have to start fanning herself. The proper nightgown she was wearing suddenly felt restrictive, tied at the bottom of her throat, making it feel as if she couldn’t breathe properly. Heat unfurled in her tummy as Cullen looked up at her through dark lashes and smirked. Slowly, he moved one of his pawns over to one of her more powerful ones and knocked it over.

            “Blast it,” she muttered to be met with a warm chuckle. Reaching down to put her piece to the side, her hand touched Cullen’s, who had been about to do the same thing. His hand was warm and firm on top of hers, and she stared at it for a moment until Cullen quickly pulled it back, as if he’d been burnt.

            “Forgive me,” he murmured, a blush darkening his cheeks.

            She wanted to tell him that it was alright, in fact he could touch her more, but was much too shy and awkward to dare such a thing. Instead she pretended like nothing had happened, even while her hand was still tingling where he had touched it, and made another move on the board. They played in silence for a little while, until suddenly something unexpected happened.

            “I believe this game is yours,” Cullen said, as he straightened up and smiled at her.

            Isabel blinked. “I won?”

            He nodded, causing the locks of hair to fall forward again and he quickly brushed them away. “You did. Maybe we can play again another time?”

            “I won!” Isabel repeated gleefully, making him smirk. She frowned and looked down at the board, recollecting the moves as best as she could remember, then raised her head to give him an accusing glare. “You let me win, didn’t you?”

            “I would never do such a thing,” Cullen protested, but the smile she detected in his voice said otherwise.

            “You will damned well play with me again,” she growled, picking up one of the pieces, and throwing it at his chest, making him laugh. “I demand a fair rematch!”

            “As the lady demands.” He winked at her, and her breath hitched. Did he not know what he was doing to her? Apparently not, she thought sullenly as he began setting up the board again.

            A lock of hair fell forward again, and without thinking Isabel reached out and smoothed it back, running her fingers through his hair. It was just as soft and bouncy to the touch as she’d always imagined. When Cullen lifted his head to stare at her, she realized what she’d done and quickly pulled her hand back.

            “I’m sorry!” she squeaked, feeling slightly panicked. What had she been thinking?

            Cullen was still staring at her with his honey-brown eyes, not saying a word. She wished she could read him better, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Then suddenly his lips were on hers, and she could hear the chess pieces clattering to the floor as he was leaning in closer. He kissed her with a fervor she’d not realized he had, and it was intoxicating. He was bracing himself on one arm, hovering over the chess board, cupping the back of her head with his other hand, holding her close.

            Swept away on a current of emotions Isabel leaned into the kiss, lifting her hands to bury her fingers in his hair. Her entire body tingled as he tasted her, suckling and nibbling at her lips. When his tongue gently caressed her lower lip, she allowed him entry without thinking. Cullen’s tongue immediately swept in, deepening the kiss and stoking the fire within her even hotter.

            A low moan escaped her, causing Cullen to abruptly end the kiss, making her feel bereft. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes darker than normal, and she wished that he would just keep kissing her. Instead, he quickly pushed himself off the bed, a terrified look on his face.

            “Maker, forgive me!” he groaned and disappeared before Isabel had gathered her thoughts enough to say something. She heard the door to his office open and close, and he was gone.

            Letting out a deep breath, Isabel fell back onto her pillows. What had just happened? The corner of the chess board cut into her lower leg, and she pushed it away with a frustrated kick. Cullen had finally kissed her. She’d dreamed of it happening when she was a young mage in the Circle Tower, but none of her youthful fantasies came even close to the real thing. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem as if Cullen shared her feelings about the kiss, judging from the way he’d run off.

            Sighing, she turned to her side and buried her head in the pillow. She was in no condition to chase after him to find out what was going through his head, so she might as well sleep.


	8. More Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I ended up having surgery and spending a week in the hospital. Finally back home now, and I hope to be back in shape to continue writing soon. Fortunately I have another chapter or so written at least, that only requires some editing. Fingers crossed that I can get back to it and that there will be no more delays!
> 
> Also, I took some liberties with the layout of Skyhold. There are so many unexplored areas of it, that I decided to add a little thing myself.

* * *

 

The next day Cullen found himself standing in the rookery where Leliana spent most of her time. The Spymaster was talking to one of her informants as he approached. When she saw him, she ushered the spy away and smiled at Cullen.

            “What brings you here?” she asked, ever curious. It was unusual for him to seek her out, that much was true.

            “I was just thinking. Since the Warden-Commander is now supposed to be my sister, and we are no longer hiding her…” Cullen trailed off, as Leliana’s knowing eyes searched his. “Well, I think it’s time that we give her a room of her own.”

            “Is something the matter?” Leliana asked slyly.

            “Not at all,” Cullen said quickly, maybe too quickly since Leliana’s eyes narrowed. “But I’m certain that she’d be more comfortable in her own quarters.”

            “And you could get your bed back.” Leliana nodded, though he suspected she knew that there was more than that to his request. “I will have it done in the next few days.”

            “Today,” Cullen bit out.

            “Very well.” Leliana was nearly smiling now. “I will make sure that it is done today.”

            With a terse ‘thank you’, Cullen left the tower and found his way down to the grounds. Checking in on the recruits and soldiers training would be a good way to spend the day, since he didn’t trust himself to be alone with Isabel in his office anymore. What had he been thinking, to kiss her like that? Accosting her like that. It was definitely for the best that he stayed away.

He’d spent the night in Dorian’s room, the mage not asking any questions for once, only sneaking back into his own quarters at the first sign of dawn to get the rest of his clothes and armor. Isabel had still been sleeping, her long, blonde hair spilling out over the pillows. Seeing her had only hardened his resolve even more, since even being in the same room with her was enough to bring back the memories of the kiss.

Who was he kidding? He groaned inwardly. He didn’t need to be in the same room as her to remember that kiss. Her soft lips yielding beneath his, her fingers threading through his hair. Feeling himself beginning to harden from the memory, he forced his thoughts back to the soldiers and the training. Picking up a shield and sword, he decided to join in himself. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone pounding on him for a while. Nothing quite like it to focus your mind.

 

*******

 

_There was so much blood. The tangy smell made him feel queasy, as he made his way through the corridors of the Circle Tower. Everywhere he looked there were dead bodies, mangled, ripped to pieces. And so much blood._

_He found her in the library, standing over the corpses of mages who had been her friends. She was crying uncontrollably, her hands covered in blood, her robe stained. When she saw him, she lifted one of her bloodstained hands and pointed an accusing finger at him._

_“You!” She wailed. “This is your fault! You allowed me to do this!”_

_“Isabel! Stop!” Cullen ran up to her, grabbing her shoulders, forcing her to look up at him. She shook her head, her crying had stopped now and there was nothing but disgust in her eyes._

_“You made this happen,” she told him, motioning towards the dead bodies at her feet. “You’re the reason all of this happened.” Now she was crying again. “You should have killed me after my Harrowing. It was your **job**!” She screamed the last word as she pushed him away._

_“They’re all dead, because of you. Your friends. My friends.” As she continued to speak, her green eyes were growing darker and darker, until there was nothing but darkness – a demon’s eyes._

_“I failed you,” Cullen confessed, tears now streaming down his own face. “It was my job to kill you, should you fail your harrowing… But I could not bring myself to do it.”_

_Feeling the hard grip of a sword in his hand, he lifted it and with his last strength he plunged it through Isabel’s heart._

 

Cullen jerked awake. Another dream. He groaned. They were getting progressively worse as his body was fighting the lyrium withdrawal, and with Isabel’s return in his life, memories of the visions from the Tower had come back with her. He was lying in his bed, now soaked in sweat. His thrashing had left all of the covers bunched up at his feet, and despite his perspiration he felt oddly cold.

            No longer wanting to sleep since he had no interest in any more dreams, he got out of bed and looked outside. It was still dark out, the first rays of sunlight possibly showing on the horizon, but they were so tentative and weak that he may just as well be imagining them. Feeling dirty both from the dream and sweating, he decided to take a bath. Dorian had discovered hot springs in the dungeons below Skyhold just a few days prior. The mage enjoyed exploring the old stronghold, finding all of the areas that they had not yet gotten to with their restorations.

            Pulling on his breeches and grabbing a towel, Cullen made his way across the bridge connecting his tower to the keep. The hot springs had been a pretty popular find, and you’d rarely be able to bathe in private. However, at this time of day – or night – he suspected that he might actually get some privacy. Having been a Templar he was no stranger to undressing in a room with others, but that didn’t mean he didn’t prefer being alone.

            Torches were lit around the large chamber that held the hot springs, but even so it was fairly dark. Some corners were completely shrouded due to the torches burning out during the course of the night. Not seeing another soul in there, Cullen dropped his breeches to the ground and got into the large pool of water. It was fairly narrow, but allowed two people to sit opposite one another without touching, and stretched all the way to the back of the room. Another pool, just like it, lay alongside it on the other side of the room.

            Sinking down to rest on a ledge that had been carved out in the stone basin Cullen closed his eyes and let the hot water ease his aching muscles. He’d trained vigorously every day now for a week. While he always trained, he’d stayed longer and worked harder the past few days than he had for a long time, and his body was now complaining.

            “Cullen?”

            At first he thought he was imagining the voice, maybe he was dreaming again, but then he heard the soft splash of water as someone was moving. Opening his eyes, he saw Isabel coming towards him, she’d been shrouded in the darkness on the other side of the pool. He wondered if the Maker was playing a cruel joke. For a whole week he’d studiously avoided her, and then she’d show up in the hot springs in the middle of the night. The one night he decided to go there. The Maker must have a strange sense of humor.

            “You couldn’t sleep either?” Isabel asked, as she settled herself on the ledge across from him.

            Cullen thanked his lucky star that the water wasn’t the clear kind you’d find in a stream, but more murky from the minerals in the hot spring. Even so, seeing the slope of Isabel’s shoulders above the water, and the hint of a cleavage where the water lapped at her chest was enough for him to grow hard.

            “Nightmares,” he admitted, while silently cursing his body’s betrayal.

            “Me too,” she said, slowly making patterns in the water with one of her hands. “What causes yours? Mine are mainly because of the false Calling.”

            “Lyrium withdrawals.” He hadn’t planned to tell her, but it slipped out before he could stop himself, and her head jerked up to stare at him.

            “You’ve stopped taking lyrium?”

            He nodded tersely.

            “Is it bad?” The simple question made him relax. She didn’t appear to judge his decision, and he was surprised to find that he’d been worried that she would.

            “Sometimes,” he allowed. “But it’s something that I want to do.”

            “I may be able to help, if only a little,” Isabel offered, moving towards him. “I know a few healing spells.”

            “Don’t touch me!” Cullen snapped, and she recoiled, an expression of pain on her sweet face. He felt like the worst kind of beast.

            He sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Forgive me,” he said. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

            Isabel was silent for a moment, probably incinerating him in her mind. Not that he didn’t deserve it. “I wanted to ask you…” she finally said hesitantly.

            Cullen looked up, wanting to make the hurt look on her face go away. “Yes?” he prodded, when she didn’t continue.

            “Do Templars take vows?”

            “What kind of vows? We take some, but more importantly we go through a vigil.”

            “Chastity vows,” Isabel clarified, her green eyes clear. The heat from the pool left both of their faces flushed, so Cullen couldn’t tell if she was blushing.

            “Oh, well…” He cleared his throat. “No. I’m sure that some do, but it’s not in any way required. Why do you ask?”

            “Did you?”

            “What? Why?” Cullen was definitely blushing now, but at least she wouldn’t be able to tell. “I… ah… No, I’ve taken no such vows.”

            His answer brought a frown to her face, and she idly moved her hand through the water again, watching it create patterns on the smooth surface.

            “Is there a reason for this line of questioning?” he inquired when she said nothing.

            “I thought it would explain your reaction to our kiss if you’d taken vows,” Isabel explained with a shrug. “You literally ran from the room.”

            “I didn’t run,” Cullen muttered, only to add with a sheepish grin, “I just walked very quickly.”

            Isabel laughed, before moving closer to him. Her green eyes were searching his, and he found himself putting his hands in front of his erection below the surface to cover it, despite it being hidden from view in the murky water. While she wasn’t near enough for her legs to touch his, she felt far too close.

            “I had no right to kiss you,” he tried to explain.

            She raised a dark eyebrow. “What if I wanted you to kiss me?”


	9. The Hot Springs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some NSFW in this chapter, and I'm very bad at writing it - so hopefully it's not too awful! Thanks again to everyone who is reading and leaving comments/kudos etc. I am grateful for every single one of you!

* * *

 

Isabel held her breath as Cullen stared at her, hoping that her bold confession wouldn’t make him run away again.

            “It’s not right,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “For so many reasons.”

            “I wish you could explain to me why,” Isabel said, then deciding to try another bold approach, she put her hand on his knee under the water. He tensed, but she pushed on, determined to at least have said her piece. It wasn’t that much longer before she had to leave again, and she didn’t want to have any regrets. “I was serious. I do want you to kiss me.”

            She let her hand slide an inch up his leg, and he scooted back a bit on his seat, making her smile sadly. “If you don’t want me, Cullen…”

            He let out a harsh laugh. “Maker! If I don’t want you…” He took a deep breath, then gripped her arms and held her away from him, her hand no longer on his thigh. “Don’t you know?” he asked, his voice hoarse and his eyes desperate. “I’ve always wanted you. Ever since the Circle. Even when they used visions of you to torture me…” His voice broke, and he shook his head. She wanted to touch him, to comfort him, but his hands held her in place.

            “I’ve never wanted someone the way I wanted you,” he continued, his eyes burning as he amended. “The way I want you.”

            “Then what’s stopping you?” she asked quietly. When he released her, she moved closer to him again, her abdomen pressing against his knees. Deciding that the bold approach seemed to be her best choice, Isabel leaned in and brushed her lips against his. Lightly at first, testing his reaction. When he didn’t pull back she kissed him again, her tongue darting out to tease his lips. With a groan, Cullen seemed to give into her and returned the kiss, his arms embracing her and pulling her closer. He spread his legs so that she was wedged between his knees as his hands roamed down her back to cup her bottom.

            He was kissing her in earnest now, his tongue stroking deeply, making heat course through her every fiber. Pulling her even closer, they were both suddenly reminded that they were naked as his erection pressed into her belly. Cullen stopped kissing her, and they stared at each other for a moment, their foreheads touching and their breaths mingling. Isabel felt terrified that he might pull away again, but didn’t want to push him too far either, since that might yield the same result.

            Then he surprised her by pulling her up to straddle him, and she gasped as his hardness brushed against her. The elevated position had brought her chest above the water, and Cullen was staring at her, his eyes impossibly dark. When he didn’t move for a moment, she shifted against him impatiently. He groaned and lifted a hand to gently cup one of her breasts. His thumb stroked her nipple, and Isabel moaned and buried her fingers in the soft hair at the back of his neck.

            His hands on her felt so impossibly good, wherever he touched sent tingles through her body. When his head bent down to take a nipple in his mouth, Isabel couldn’t help but arch her back to allow him better access. His lips were hot and wet on her, his tongue teasing her nipple until she thought she couldn’t take it any longer. Then he released her, and gave her other nipple the same treatment, while fondling her other breast with his hand.

            “Cullen,” she moaned, unable to keep herself from moving against him. Cullen let go of her breast and groaned when the heat of her rubbed against his hardness. Grabbing her bottom in his palms, he pushed her closer still, grinding against her. Isabel gasped as her clit rubbed against his erection. Cullen captured her next moan with a deep, desperate kiss as he continued moving her against him, his hands cupping her buttocks.

            Isabel pressed closer, tugging on his hair and moaning against his mouth as the pressure was building within her. There was no letting up, Cullen kept grinding against her, not giving her the chance to move away, until she finally came apart in his arms. The waves of the orgasm crashed over her, unrelenting, as Cullen kept up his steady pace. It lasted longer than anything she could remember, and when she was so spent that she didn’t think she could take anymore, Cullen finally stopped.

            She shifted slightly, to keep his erection from pushing against her over-sensitive nub, and he trailed a few kisses down her neck. Then they heard the faint noise of people chattering, and Cullen froze. As if he realized what he’d been doing, he gently pushed her away from him, and quickly got out of the pool.

            “I… I must be going,” he muttered, found his towel and breeches and left.

            Even while frustrated that he was basically fleeing from her again, Isabel couldn’t help but appreciate his lean, muscular form as he disappeared into the darkness of the hold. This was getting ridiculous though. Was she going to have to freeze him in place with a spell to get him to talk to her?

 

*******

 

Cullen stared at the wooden box on his desk that contained his lyrium kit. The blood in his veins felt as if it was on fire, and his head was pounding furiously. _If I take some it will make the pain go away. Just a little. It’s not so bad. I can quit again tomorrow._ He shook his head, willing the thoughts to go away, but they were persistent. The blue lyrium in the box shimmered, as if it wanted to remind him of how good it would feel if he would just relent, just this once…

            In fury, Cullen picked up the box and threw it across the room, just as the door opened and Isabel stepped inside. The box nearly hit her, but she was quick, and knocked it away with a spell. It clattered to the floor in a corner, and they both stood still for a moment staring at each other in shock.

            “Maker’s breath!” Cullen finally exhaled. “I didn’t hear you enter…”

            He came around the desk, intending to take her in his arms before he remembered himself and his steps faltered. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, leaning back against the desk, as another wave of pain hit him.

            Isabel took a few steps into the room, giving the now shattered box a quizzical look before meeting his eyes. She smiled sardonically. “You know. If you want me to leave you alone, you need only say so. No need to throw things at me.”

            Letting out a self-deprecating laugh, despite it hurting, Cullen was glad to see that she wasn’t angry. “I’m truly sorry,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I never meant to assault you with flying objects.”

            “It should teach me to knock louder,” she smiled. When a wave of pain made him wince, her eyes grew worried. “How are you?”

            “I’ve been better, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. He’d handled it, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to contemplate how very close he’d been to succumbing to the temptation of taking lyrium again.

            “You don’t look well.” Isabel came up to stand next to him, placing a cool hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up.”  Her eyes searched his, and he had to look away, too embarrassed for her to see him in this state.

            “I’ll be fine,” he muttered. “It usually passes after a couple of hours.”

            “There is no magic that can aid you in your lyrium withdrawals, but if you would let me, I could perhaps relieve some of the symptoms.”

            Cullen tensed up at the thought of someone using magic on him, but as another wave of pain and nausea crashed over him he nodded. Isabel took his hand and led him back to his chair, pushing him into it. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

            “Try to relax,” Isabel’s soft voice coaxed him, and he felt the fingertips of both of her hands on his scalp. He could smell the soft hint of lemon that always seemed to follow her, and it made him relax. Isabel moved her fingers through his hair as she hummed quietly, and he could feel the soft tendrils of magic moving through him from her fingertips. It slowly moved through his body, giving him goosebumps, but also pushing the pain away. It wasn’t unlike standing in the rain and letting it wash the dirt away, only now it was cleansing him of the pain rather than grime.

            He let out a deep sigh of relief as the worst pain seemed to ebb from him and his muscles loosened up. Opening his eyes he looked at Isabel who was standing in front of him, her fingers still tangled in his hair. He enjoyed having her like that far too much. It would be far too easy to put his arms around her waist and pull her close.

            “Thank you,” he said, and she smiled down at him. “You’re too kind, after the way I’ve treated you lately.”

            “I am,” she agreed with a mischievous smile as she removed her hands from his hair. “I actually came here to talk to you about that, but I don’t think now is appropriate. Another time?”

            Cullen nodded, happy for the respite, since he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to tell her.


	10. Wicked Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the longest chapter to date, and I blame Isabel's rambling! (Yep, blame the fictional character.) As always, thank you all very much for reading and leaving comments/kudos!

* * *

 

Cullen stood at the back of the tavern with his ale in hand, watching as his Inquisition companions played Wicked Grace with Isabel. They’d all accepted her as his sister Mia without hesitation, and she’d quickly won them over with her natural charm. No one questioned her identity, and even Cole had stayed strangely silent about it.

            Taking a sip of his beer, Cullen felt content to watch the game rather than join, enjoying seeing Isabel having a good time. She was laughing and joking with the others as if they were all old friends. He glanced to his side as Iron Bull came to stand next to him.

            “Commander,” the Qunari greeted him.

            “Bull,” Cullen answered with a curt nod.

            They stood in companionable silence for a while, both watching their friends play. Cullen smiled a little as Isabel let out a gleeful laugh as she won a hand of the card game. It would seem that she really enjoyed winning, since she’d had a similar reaction when she’d won their chess game. Before she realized he’d let her win, that was. Before he’d ruined it all by kissing her. Cullen suppressed a groan at the memory, and the knowledge that he’d done much worse since. Something about the Warden-Commander just seemed to make him lose all sense, and he did things he really ought not to. But wanted to. Very, very much.

            “So, Cullen,” Bull interrupted his wayward thoughts. “Your sister, she’s quite something.”

            “She is,” Cullen agreed, watching as Isabel playfully swatted at Varric after the dwarf most likely said something funny.

            Bull drank deeply from his tankard, before glancing at Cullen. “I’d normally never ask permission, but since she’s your sister and you’re a friend… Would it be okay if I…?”

            “No,” Cullen bit out.

            Bull chuckled and raised his hands in defense. “Overprotective brother? I get it. Pretend I never asked.”

            Cullen sighed. “No, it’s…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s a grown woman, and she can make her own choices. Do as you will.”

            “Appreciate it, Commander.” Bull was grinning widely now.

            Watching as Bull strolled over to the table and sat down to chat with Isabel, Cullen hated the stab of jealousy in his gut, but the truth was he had no right to her. She was a free woman, and she really could do whatever she wanted. Or whoever she wanted. Whether she was his pretend-sister or not, he couldn’t dictate her love life for her. He watched silently as Isabel and Bull stood up and left the tavern together. She’s not mine, he reminded himself as he fought the urge to go after them. _Maybe she could be._ No, those were dangerous thoughts.

            “Cullen!” Varric called from the table. “Come over here and play with us, we’re a player short.”

            “I have a million things to do,” Cullen said. “I really ought to get back to them.”

            “You need to relax,” Varric argued. “Everyone needs an evening off now and then. Now get over here.”

            Figuring that he might just as well play, to keep his mind off Isabel, Cullen went to sit down at the table with his companions.

            It was a couple of hours later that he returned to his office in the tower, wearing no clothes, since he’d made the mistake of betting against Josephine. He’d been certain that he’d figured out her tactic, but she kept winning, hand after hand. And now he had just run all the way from the tavern without a stitch on his body. He was lucky that it was nighttime and no one had seen him in the darkness.

            Closing the door behind him he took a few steps in, going through in his head where he’d gone wrong, so that he might beat Josephine the next time they played. Then he suddenly noticed that he wasn’t alone, as his office chair swung around and he found himself facing Isabel.

            “Cullen, I… oh,” she trailed off on a light gasp as she caught sight of his naked form.

            Covering his groin with his hands, Cullen stood rooted in place, not quite sure what to do. Isabel looked a little shocked, but her eyes were roaming over his body. Her perusal was oddly exciting, and he felt himself harden under her gaze. This really wasn’t a tenable situation, he wasn’t going to be able to hide his budding erection much longer. Finally Isabel’s eyes came back up to meet his own, and he noticed that she blushed slightly.

            “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you, but I seem to have picked a bad time.”

            “Just give me a few moments to get dressed.”

            Isabel nodded and stood up from his chair. “I will wait out on the ramparts. Just join me when you’re ready.”

            She made to leave, but stopped and turned around by the door, a quizzical look on her face. “How…? Why…?”

            “I lost at Wicked Grace,” Cullen admitted grimly.

            The admission made her giggle, and the soft sound followed her as she exited the tower.

 

*******

 

Isabel leaned against the stone wall of the rampart and looked out over the mountains surrounding Skyhold while trying to tamp down her nervousness. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to say to Cullen, but she was running out of time, and she was refusing to leave things as they were.

            Hearing the sound of the tower door closing, she turned to see him walking towards her. Being late at night he’d not bothered to don his armor, but was just wearing boots, breeches and a loose, white shirt. It somehow only made him more handsome. Though she quite possibly preferred him without any clothes. As surprised as she’d been when he’d entered his office naked, she had to admit that she was perversely happy that she’d been there to see it.

            Cullen finally reached her and stopped a few steps away, as if making sure he stayed out of arm’s reach. Was he worried that she might pounce on him? To be fair, she would have been quite happy to do so, so she supposed she couldn’t blame him.

            “Next time you play Wicked Grace,” she said teasingly. “Please let me join. I’d love to make you lose your breeches.”

            “I’ll keep that in mind,” Cullen said, shifting uncomfortably.

            Isabel sighed. “Cullen, I’m not going to jump you. I promise.”

            “What? Why do you think…?” he trailed off, probably realizing how he’d been acting. “It’s not that. I just…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, then met her eyes. ”What did you wish to speak to me about?”

            Suddenly feeling very nervous, Isabel turned back to look out over the mountains for a moment. When she had finally calmed herself enough she turned back to Cullen who was still waiting patiently.

            “Look, Cullen… I’m not good at this. I like you. I think that you like me too, at least to some extent. I mean, you sort of said so,” she was rambling, and she knew it, but if she slowed down, she may not say anything at all. “But you’re giving me very mixed signals. Which could all just stem from me being very bad at this, and not seeing the right signals. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I like you and short of throwing myself at you I don’t know what to do.”

            She took a deep breath as she finished, then added dryly. “Actually, I guess I did sort of throw myself at you in the hot springs.”

            Cullen was silent, just looking at her. Maybe he was shocked. His quiet made her continue to ramble though, just to fill the silence.

            “And well, that didn’t work out too well. I mean, it did… Sort of. Only you abruptly left me, so I don’t know if I just sort of made you do it and then you realised you didn’t want to. But then you _did_ say you want me, and…”

            The sound of Cullen’s soft laughter cut her off mid-sentence and she lifted her head to stare at him. He was looking at her, shaking his head slightly.

            “Please,” he said, still laughing a little. “Stop talking.”

            Isabel took a step backwards, feeling rather hurt by the fact that he was laughing at her. “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “This was obviously a mistake.”

            Turning around to leave, she only took one step before Cullen caught up with her and put an arm on her shoulder. “Wait,” he said. “Don’t go.”

            “I don’t appreciate being laughed at,” Isabel muttered.

            Cullen moved her around so that she could see him, his face was soft as he looked at her. “Isabel, I _do_ want you,” he said. “And I _do_ like you. It’s just…” He sighed. “I’m the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces. You’re the Hero of Ferelden. We’re both very busy people, and the truth is, you deserve a lot more than I could ever give you.”

            “Don’t you think I should be the judge of that?” Isabel asked. “And I agree that we’re both busy. I have my mission and you’re saving the world. But Cullen, I’ve not asked you to marry me. I just want some time together with you before I have to leave again.”

            “I… I don’t know if I could do that with you,” Cullen admitted. “I’m afraid that I would want it all.”

            Isabel reached up to touch his cheek and he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment. “Then why don’t we try?” she asked quietly. “We could start simple, and see where it leads. Maybe with a kiss?”

            Cullen opened his eyes again. She did love the amber colour of them.

            “I mean… You’re not with someone, are you?” Isabel asked, only just realising that she’d never thought to find out. That would have explained a lot. She really hoped that wasn’t the case though.

            Cullen shook his head. “No, never been.” When she must have looked surprised he blushed. “Not like that,” he muttered. “I’ve done that, just… I’ve never had a relationship.”

            “I haven’t for a very long time,” Isabel admitted. “Unsurprisingly being the Hero of Ferelden and Warden-Commander has kept me fairly busy.”

            “I can imagine,” Cullen smiled.

            He was standing so close now that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. She wanted to touch him, but didn’t quite dare to, because she wasn’t entirely sure what they’d agreed on so far, if anything. Cullen reached out and took her hand, then lifted it to his lips and placed a soft kiss above her knuckles.

            “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he said quietly, his words making her stomach flutter. “Too much. But I’m terrified,” he confessed. “The visions I had… They were not pleasant ones, Isabel. Some of them probably were… At first. But most of them were just horrible. And I’m terrified. Of hurting you. Of myself. I’m a broken man, suffering from lyrium withdrawals. It’s not safe for you to be around me.”

            “Are you forgetting that I’m the Hero of Ferelden?” Isabel teased him, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m pretty sure that I can keep myself safe.”

            “I know you’re a very powerful mage,” Cullen agreed. “But I beat you in brute strength, and even without lyrium I retain my Templar abilities. I could silence your spells.”

            “If you’re prepared,” Isabel nodded. “But you can’t silence them all. And trust me, I’m very capable.”

            “You were recently injured,” Cullen reminded her. “Even you’re not infallible.”

            “Yes, but there were a dozen of them, and as much faith as I have in your fighting prowess,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him, unable to stay completely serious. “You’re still only one man.”

            When Cullen still looked uncertain she sighed, leaning back against the stone wall of the rampart. “I want you, Cullen. But if you don’t want to…”

            She was abruptly silenced as Cullen took the final step separating them and pulled her close, pressing his lips against hers. It took her a moment to realize what was happening, but then she answered his kiss with fervor. Her hands moved up and slid through the hair at the back of his neck as he deepened the kiss, pressing his body against hers so that she was trapped between him and the stone wall.

            They both stiffened as they heard the sound of the tower door opening and closing.

            “Commander!”

            Cullen quickly took a couple of steps back from Isabel, and she was happy that it was dark out, because she was certain that her face was flushed and her lips swollen from the kiss. A soldier walked up to them, a paper in his hand.

            “Commander! I have the report that you requested. You asked to have it the moment it… arrived.” The soldier stopped a few paces away, looking rather uncertain as Cullen was glaring at him.

            Isabel very much hoped that the darkness had hidden them from view. She was supposed to be Cullen’s sister after all. The soldier glanced away from Cullen’s furious countenance to look at her, and she waved a little, pretending that she’d not just been kissing his Commander. Looking back at Cullen he took a couple of steps backwards.

            “I’ll… Just leave it on your desk,” he mumbled before turning around and fleeing back into the tower.

            “Oh, I really hope he didn’t see us kissing,” Isabel said as the door closed behind the soldier. “That would be _very_ awkward. We probably shouldn’t be doing that outside where people could potentially see us.”

            “Probably not,” Cullen agreed, but before she could say anything else, his lips were on hers again and his hands were cupping the back of her head, holding her in place.

            As he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue in to taste her, Isabel took advantage of his loose shirt and slid her hands in under the hem to slide across his back. He was so strong and solid, while his skin was soft to her touch. Cullen continued to kiss her for some time, before he finally lifted his head to look at her.

            “As much as I want to keep kissing you for hours, I think you’re right that this is a bad location,” he smiled slightly when she giggled, before continuing. “I am leaving for Halamshiral on the morrow, but when I return… Let’s continue our discussion then?”

            Isabel reached up to touch his lips with her thumb. “If by discussion you mean kissing, yes – definitely.”

            He chuckled and pressed another quick kiss on her mouth before letting her go. “I will be back in a few days,” he promised.


	11. Halamshiral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so depending on where in the world you are, it may not technically be Thursday anymore. I’ve not gone to bed yet though, so I’m still going to count it as Thursday, even if that is cheating slightly. I think this might be the longest chapter to date, and eh… Sorry?

* * *

 

The soft notes of the music was nearly drowned out by the murmur of people speaking, but Cullen focused on it nonetheless. It helped to calm him, as he found himself more or less cornered by a group of Orlesian nobles who apparently found the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces very intriguing. More than anything, he wished that they would just leave him alone, or even better – that he could just leave the ball.

            It wasn’t possible though. Josephine had worked hard at getting them invited to the Winter Palace, and this was an important mission. He was to keep eyes and ears open for anything strange, as the Inquisitor was investigating on her end. Every so often the elf would disappear from the ballroom for a little while, usually with Dorian, Solas and Cassandra in tow, and Cullen had to make up excuses of her absence whenever someone asked. He wasn’t quite sure how many more times he could claim that she was admiring the view from the balconies.

            When he felt someone grab at his bum, not for the first time that evening, he couldn’t even be bothered to complain, only glowered at the Orlesian. They didn’t even have the decency to look repentant, only giggled at him. Andraste preserve him, this was going to be a long evening.

            “Commander, would you save me a dance?”

            “No, thank yo…” Cullen’s voice lodged in his throat as he turned to the woman who’d asked. She was wearing a white porcelain half-mask, covering the upper half of her face, but he’d have recognized her anywhere. Isabel was wearing her long, blonde hair piled in a loose bun on top of her head, a few wayward tendrils curled and framing her face. The dress she wore was typically Orlesian, beautiful and overdone in rich silks and lace. And quite low-cut, which was emphasized by a silver medallion that rested just above the swell of her breasts.

            “Such a shame,” Isabel said, a little smile playing at her lips. Lips that seemed even softer and more tantalizing now that most of her face was hidden by a mask. It somehow emphasized them, and Cullen found himself staring at them, remembering how they felt when he kissed her.

            “I…” he shook his head, then turned to his little group of admirers. “Please excuse me for a moment.”

            Taking Isabel by the elbow he escorted her out of the ballroom and through a couple of hallways until he finally found a secluded area of the palace where no one seemed to be. A pair of doors led them out onto a balcony overlooking part of the gardens.

            “What are you doing here?” he asked incredulously as he closed the doors behind them, leaving them alone and hopefully undisturbed on the balcony.

            “Leliana thought it would be fun to surprise you,” Isabel smiled, taking off the half-mask. “Officially, I’m just your sister and Leliana took me along since she thought I’d enjoy the ball – in case anyone from the Inquisition recognizes me. Anyone else,” she wiggled the half-mask a little in her hands, “Would never know it’s me. These masks are great for staying hidden. Whoever designed them must have been begging to be assassinated.”

            “It’s dangerous for you to be here,” Cullen said, torn between worry and being happy that she was there. “There are a lot of things going on here tonight.”

            “I know,” Isabel said, putting a hand on his arm as if to calm him. “Leliana has filled me in on all of it. I’m going to assist if I can, without letting anyone know of course.”

            Cullen frowned, not liking this idea at all. “Please, be careful. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

            “Don’t worry about me,” Isabel was smiling. “I really had hoped you would dance with me though. I haven’t danced with anyone in… Well, never really. I don’t think the dancing I did with the other mages in the tower count. We didn’t even have music.”

            “I’m not much for dancing,” Cullen admitted. “Never much opportunity for it as a Templar.”

            Isabel walked over to the railing and looked out over the garden. “Do let me know if you change your mind.” Then she added quietly, to herself, as she surveyed the garden. “This will be a perfect location.”

            “Perfect for what?”

            “To keep an eye on the Inquisitor. I think they will be going to this part of the garden soon.”

            “You know more than I do.”

            She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. “That’s the advantage of no one knowing who you are. Oh, and having Leliana whisper in your ear constantly.”

            Cullen chuckled. “I can see _that_ being useful.”

            Walking over to stand next to her by the railing he had meant to inspect the garden, but instead he found himself looking at her profile. Maker’s breath, she was beautiful. Dark, arched eyebrows, high cheekbones and a pert little nose. Her eyelashes were long and dark, probably a bit more so than normal since she seemed to be wearing make-up for the ball. Her lips were definitely a little darker than usual. Would they taste differently too?

            Without thinking, he reached out and traced the curve of her shoulder, bared from the off-the-shoulder style of her dress, with light fingertips. He could hear Isabel’s breath hitching. Bowing his head, he let his lips follow the same trail until he reached her neck. He planted a light kiss behind her ear, breathing in the clean scent of her.

            Isabel softly let out some air, as if she’d been holding her breath.

            “Did you know,” Cullen mumbled against the sensitive skin of her neck. “That you smell a little bit of lemons?”

            The question made her laugh a little, and she turned towards him as he straightened up. “You noticed?” She was smiling sheepishly. “Honestly? It’s my one, or at least biggest, concession to vanity. I use lemon in my hair to lighten it.”

            “Really?” Cullen carefully fingered one of the errant, blonde locks by her ear. “It always seemed quite light to me.”

            “Oh, it’s quite light naturally,” Isabel agreed. “But the lemon seems to make it just that extra shade lighter that makes it look a tiny bit better.”

            Cullen found himself smiling broadly. “I never took you for someone who would care about their looks.”

            “Well, there are still some things you don’t know about me,” Isabel replied tartly, but her green eyes were twinkling mischievously.

            Right then, Cullen wanted nothing more than to kiss her, and he would have done so, had she not pointed to something in the garden and exclaimed, “There they are!”

            Together they watched as the Inquisitor and her companions made it through the garden. Cullen wished he could have been down there to help, but they seemed to be doing rather well. To be fair, they were all very competent fighters. At one point it looked as if someone was going to be able to sneak up on Dorian from the back, but Isabel quickly fired off a spell and the attack was thwarted. With three mages down in the gardens, it was unlikely that they would ever realize that the spell had not been one of theirs.

            As the Inquisitor and her friends disappeared again, Isabel turned to Cullen looking somewhat regretful. “I had better go keep an eye on them. They’re all very competent, and can probably do this on their own – but Leliana asked me…”

            “I understand,” Cullen nodded. “I should return to the ballroom before they send a search party in any case.”

            Isabel giggled. “They _did_ seem rather fond of you.”

            “Don’t remind me,” Cullen groaned.

 

*******

 

Isabel leaned against the railing of yet another balcony, but this time she was able to relax. The plot to end Empress Celene’s life had been foiled and the guilty parties apprehended. All in all, it had been a good evening. It had been a long time since she’d enjoyed herself in this way. The past years had mainly consisted of various paperwork and training new recruits. And the recent mission she’d taken upon herself – to find a cure to the Calling – was anything but enjoyable.

            Having been able to help the Inquisitor and her friends tonight though, no matter how little, had been fun.

            “I thought I might find you here.”

            She turned around to smile at Cullen who had just entered the balcony. “How _did_ you find me?”

            “Leliana,” he admitted. “Sometimes I think she knows everything.”

            “She does certainly give you that impression,” Isabel giggled.

            “What are we looking at?” Cullen asked as he came to stand next to her.

            “Nothing really,” Isabel shrugged. “Just enjoying the quiet. I find the ballroom rather crowded.”

            There was another balcony a ways off on a lower level, with open doors leading to the ballroom. One could hear the music being played, and Isabel swayed slightly in rhythm to the soft tones. She was just about to ask Cullen again if he would dance with her, when she caught sight of the Inquisitor on the balcony below. The young elf looked weary and almost sad. Isabel didn’t blame her, she had a lot resting on her slender shoulders. A dark haired woman was just leaving the balcony, and Isabel thought there was something familiar about her, but the distance was too great and angle to odd for her to see properly.

            “Do you think we should go and talk to her?” she quietly asked Cullen, who was also looking at the Inquisitor. “She looks so lost.”

            “No need, it seems Solas is going to keep her company.”

            The older elf had indeed come out on the balcony. He spoke quietly to the Inquisitor for a moment, then appeared to be asking her to dance. Isabel turned her back to them, feeling as if she was intruding on a private moment.

            “Cullen…” She was going to ask him for that dance, but she made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. He wasn’t observing the couple on the balcony below, he was staring at her. Devouring her with his eyes. It made her feel slightly giddy and out of breath. That this handsome man could be looking at her like that.

            His hands came up to cup the back of her head, his fingers burying in the hair at her nape. Suddenly his face was so close to hers that she could feel his hot breath against her lips, but he wasn’t kissing her, not yet. He was searching her eyes, as if looking for permission. Isabel slid her arms around his waist, hoping that was obvious enough. It only took a moment before Cullen’s lips brushed against hers. Softly at first, but then with increasing pressure.

            Isabel shyly touched his lips with her tongue, it was all the encouragement he needed and he quickly deepened the kiss. He tasted her, conquered her, one of his hands coming down to rest between her shoulder blades and the other against her bottom, pressing her against him. Even through the layers of her dress and his clothing, Isabel could feel the evidence of his desire, which only stoked her own.

            Cullen kept kissing her until she started feeling lightheaded, then he trailed kisses along her cheek to her ear. He nibbled gently, then sucked a little and Isabel thought her knees might buckle. She’d not realized she was so sensitive there, but what he was doing made her whole body sing. One of his hands came up to cup her breast through the fabric of her dress, kneading it softly. Burying her fingers in his hair Isabel let out a moan. Why did they have to be on a blasted balcony?

            “I can see at least one advantage to these dresses having such big skirts,” Cullen whispered against her ear.

            “Hmm?” Isabel was barely listening. She couldn’t really say that she cared much about the Orlesian fashion right then. “What’s that?”

            “Much better access.”

            With that, Cullen moved her over to the wall, pressing her against it and then promptly kneeled in front of her. Isabel found herself rather bereft of his touch and staring down at him without quite understanding. When his hands sneaked under her skirts and lightly started traveling up her legs though, she understood and gasped, scandalized.

            “Cullen, no!” she whispered fervently. “We can’t do that here.”

            He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. “Why not? I don’t think anyone will disturb us. The ball is still in full swing downstairs, hardly anyone seems to be on this floor.”

            His hands were at her thighs now, caressing them over the stockings. He smiled that little half smile of his as he lightly trailed his fingertips up the inside of her thigh, lightly brushing against her core as he reached the juncture, then smoothly back down again. Another gasp escaped her. She was so excited, but this was so risky.

            “What if someone hears us?” Her voice was breathless, and she wasn’t sounding nearly as convincing as she had meant to.

            “Then I suggest you’re quiet,” Cullen said as he hooked his fingers under her underwear at her hips and tugged down.

            “Oh, I… Ooh!” Isabel’s protest ended on a moan as his hand came back up and slid across her hot, wet core. When his thumb gently grazed across her clit, her hands gripped his shoulders to keep herself from buckling, her knees going weak.

            “Sshh,” Cullen admonished her teasingly as he moved his fingers equally teasingly across her slit, moving across her entrance, but not into her. He continued touching her, teasing her, as she breathed deeply, trying to keep her moaning quiet. When, for a moment, she dared to glance down at him, she discovered that he was watching her face as he was touching her. The desire in this eyes told her he was enjoying it, torturing her like this. Not that she really minded, not while he was touching her in this manner.

            Isabel leaned her head back against the wall as Cullen’s thumb came back to gently rub her clit, biting her lower lip to stifle her moans. Her head snapped back when she felt a sudden rush of air against her legs, only to discover that Cullen had gone under the voluptuous skirts of her dress. The fabric covered his head and shoulders, but ended about halfway down his back.

            “Cullen…?” she queried quietly, her breath hitching as she felt him press a kiss against one of her thighs.

            He lifted one of her legs and hooked it over his shoulder, leaving her wet and exposed to him underneath the skirts, his face now so close that she could feel his breath against the very center of her desire. This was so deliciously wicked, that she thought she might faint. Maker, she really hoped no one would wander out onto this balcony.

            Then she felt Cullen’s mouth against her folds as he pressed a kiss against her, and all thoughts of someone walking in on them vanished, all she could think about was the feel of him on her. He placed several kisses on her folds and the very top of the inside of her thighs, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders under the skirt, waiting with bated breath for more. Then he licked a long stroke along her slit, finishing with a light flick of his tongue on her clit, and she nearly came apart right then and there.

            His hands reached around her, one around her hip, grabbing at her bum and the other snaking over the thigh on his shoulder, keeping her in place, helping her stay upright, as he continued to nibble, lap and suck on her. He was still teasing her, only sometimes allowing her a light flick of his tongue or a gentle suck on her clit before continuing to taste all of her. Isabel thought she might go insane if he did not grant her release soon, her head rolling against the wall and her breath coming in shallow gasps.

            “Please…” She moaned. “Cullen…”

            She could have sworn she felt him smiling against her. Then he finally moved to her clit, lapping at it with his tongue, teasing and sucking gently. Isabel was grateful for the support his arms gave her, because she suspected that she might have fallen to the ground by now otherwise, her knees weak. Cullen’s expert mouth was bringing her closer and closer to an orgasm, and when he moved a hand back to slip two fingers into her, moving in rhythm to his licks, she cried out as she came apart. Waves of pleasure coursing through her body, as she called his name over and over.

            There was a risk that she might bruise his shoulders, because she was holding onto him with all her might as he continued stroking her with his tongue, prolonging the pleasure. She felt her hips jerking, bucking towards him, as if she couldn’t get enough. Cullen held her close, carefully slowing down as she was beginning to wiggle away from him when the pressure of his tongue was becoming too much. Then finally he kissed her on the inside of her thighs and came up from under her dress. Gently smoothing the fabric down over her legs again.

            Isabel was exhausted, feeling limp and without energy, so she stayed leaning against the wall as he stood up in front of her. Leaning forward he kissed her neck softly.

            “Maker’s breath, you’re beautiful,” he whispered against her ear.

            They stood there for a moment, arms around each other, until Cullen realized that she was nearly falling asleep.

            “Come,” he said. “Let’s get you back to our sleeping quarters so that you can rest.”

            Isabel nodded, grateful for the idea of going to bed. Then she couldn’t help but look at him with a slight frown. “Cullen…” she said thoughtfully. “This makes two for me and none for you. It seems rather unfair.”

            “What?” He seemed to realize what she was referring to and actually looked a little ashamed. “Oh, don’t worry about it.”

            “You will have to let me make it up to you,” Isabel stated, it really wasn’t a question.

            “We’ll see,” Cullen said, and she wanted to argue, but right then she wasn’t in the mood to take that discussion. Her mood was rather good after all, and she wanted to keep it that way.


	12. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted. Life happened, and I’ve been fairly busy. This coming week seems fairly free though, so I’m hoping to get a lot of writing done, so that I get a few chapters drafted. That way it will not matter if I get a bit busy, since I’ll have things nearly done and ready to post anyway.
> 
> As always, thank you all for your lovely comments and kudos!

* * *

 

 _Control_. It was something Cullen had always prided himself of having. His self-restraint was what had made him an excellent pupil when he joined the Templars, and it had helped him during his ordeal in Kinloch Hold. There was nothing he hated more than being in a situation where he had no control, since it reminded him of the torture and imprisonment. Control was what kept him sane.

            It had not been his intention to let things go as far as they did on the balcony at the Winter Palace, but Isabel had been so beautiful that he’d allowed himself to do what he wanted most. To touch her. To kiss her. After that he’d been lost. It worried him that she had such an effect on him. In the past when he’d been with women, it had been a means to an end; quick and effective. Impersonal, even. And he’d never lost control, not once.

            Yet, when it came to Isabel his control slipped. And it terrified him. Since Kinloch Hold he’d never allowed himself to relax, living a life of restraint – afraid of losing control the way he had in the tower. Immediately following their rescue, he’d been raw, and would easily lash out at others. He’d been far from a joy to be around. It had taken him a long time to regain his self-control and it had helped him to become whole again. He wasn’t sure who he was without it, which was why he was afraid to let go and truly be with Isabel. What if he lost control? What if he hurt her?

            These questions had plagued him ever since the evening on the balcony in Halamshiral. They hadn’t exchanged more than a few words during the travel back to Skyhold, since their new advisor – a witch named Morrigan, had turned out to be an old friend of Isabel’s, and the two had spent the journey back together in a carriage. The entire group had arrived back at Skyhold earlier that day, and Cullen had tried to bury himself in work immediately. Now his desk was nearly clean, since he’d worked through all of the papers that had accumulated during his absence. Which left him sitting in his chair thinking. The thing he’d tried to avoid in the first place.

            He wasn’t fool enough to not realise that Isabel wanted him in her bed. There was nothing he wanted more, but there was also nothing that terrified him quite as much. Having had her in his arms, tasting her and watching her come apart beneath his touch was definitely not making it easier to stay away from her. _So, don’t stay away._ He pushed the treacherous thought to the side. Oh, but he wanted her, so very, very badly. But could he risk losing control to be with her?

            As a soft knock sounded on the door and Isabel carefully poked her head inside he realized that he may not have a choice in the matter. Seeing her made him want to do nothing but walk over and grab her. He restrained himself though, putting his hands flat on the desk in front of him.

            Isabel was grinning. “Not trying to hit me with any flying objects today?” she asked mischievously.

            Cullen smiled. As much as he was struggling with himself, Isabel did make him relax. Which was probably why he found it difficult to control his impulses around her. He naturally relaxed in her presence, and he was still trying to determine if it was a good or a bad thing.

            Coming into the room, Isabel closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, looking uncertain. “So,” she finally said, but didn’t move. “About Halamshiral…”

            “Let’s not talk about it,” Cullen said quickly, as memories of her soft body in his hands came flooding back. Maker, he wanted her.

            She frowned. “I think we should. I’m sorry that I haven’t come to you sooner, but Morrigan…” She trailed off, her eyes growing distant as she thought of the witch and whatever past they shared.

            “Don’t trouble yourself,” Cullen reassured her. “I understand that she is someone that you knew.”

            “Yes,” Isabel nodded, her eyes refocusing on him. “She helped me during the Fifth Blight. Helped all of us. She saved my life.”

            “She did?”

            “It’s not important now,” Isabel said, waving a hand dismissively, but he sensed that there was more to that story. He wouldn’t press it though. If she didn’t want to tell him, she didn’t have to. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t kept secrets through his life. He’d never truly told anyone of his time in Kinloch Hold, so if she didn’t want to relive someone saving her life – then he wouldn’t make her.

            Wanting to change the topic, Cullen motioned towards one of the chairs on the other side of his desk. “I feel like I’ve seen her before,” he said as Isabel moved into the room. “Do you know if she was ever in a Circle of Magi?”

            The question made Isabel grin. “Morrigan in a Circle? Perish the thought! No, she’s an apostate that I met in the Korcari Wilds.”

            Cullen nodded. “I just can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen her before.”

            “Oh,” Isabel stopped, looking a little uneasy. “Well, she was with me when I returned to the tower. Morrigan, Leliana and Alis… King Alistair, were with me.”

            “Right.” Cullen didn’t know what else to say. Great, yet another person who had seen him at his worst in the Circle Tower had arrived at Skyhold.

            Isabel moved forward again, but she didn’t sit down on one of the chairs, instead she came around the desk, making Cullen pull back in surprise. As she leaned back against the desk in front of him, he had to put his hands on the chair’s armrests to keep himself from reaching for her.

            “Now, are we going to talk about Halamshiral?” she asked, her green eyes searching his.

            “I’d rather not?” Cullen tried, which only made her smile. Which only made him want to kiss her. He was fighting a losing battle. A battle he wasn’t even sure he wanted to win.

            “Fine,” she said, leaning back a little further so that she could place her hands on the edge of the desk behind her. It made her breasts strain against the simple fabric of the dress she wore, and Cullen found himself staring. Fortunately for him, she didn’t seem to notice, as she was looking off into the distance, lost in thought.

            It allowed him a moment to admire her, the swell of her breasts, the inclination of her waist and the curve of her hips. He wanted to run his hands over those curves. Trace every outline with his lips. Pushing his chair back a few inches, he took himself further away from temptation.

            The sudden movement startled Isabel and she looked back down at him. Seeing him having scooted backwards, she arched an eyebrow. “You know, Cullen. If a girl didn’t know better she might think that you were avoiding her.”

            Avoiding temptation was more accurate, but he couldn’t expect her to understand. She’d said before that he was giving her mixed signals, and he supposed he couldn’t argue with that. One moment he was bringing her to orgasm with his mouth and hands, the next he was trying not to touch her. He watched her where she was standing before him, so beautiful and strong. Would it be so bad to lose control after all?

            “I’m sorry,” he said earnestly, but still not reaching out to touch her, not trusting himself to be able to stop. “It is never my intention to make you feel like I’m avoiding you.”

            “Then stop?” Isabel suggested, a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

            Cullen fought the urge to do just that. To stand up, swipe everything off his desk and take her right then and there. She deserved better. She deserved more than him taking her like a brute against the desk. She deserved someone who wasn’t terrified of the feelings she evoked in him.

            Isabel seemed to sense his inner turmoil, because she pushed away from the desk and took the few steps separating them, coming to stand before him. Placing a hand lightly on his cheek, she guided his face up so that she could meet his eyes.

            “Cullen,” she said softly. “Whatever your reasons are for avoiding me… Unless they include not wanting to be with me, let go of them.”

            Cullen closed his eyes, reveling in the simple feeling of her hand against his skin, the heat radiating off her body and that scintillating hint of lemon that always clung to her. “That’s just the thing,” he admitted, his eyes still closed. “It’s how very much I want to be with you that frightens me.”

            “Why?”

            It was a simple question, but the answer did not come easily. There were so many reasons. How would he ever be able to be with her, only to watch her leave again? Would he lose all self-control if he allowed himself to love her? He opened his eyes in shock at the thought. Love her? No, he couldn’t. Shouldn’t. But as he looked at her, he knew it was a battle he had already lost.

            She was the most beautiful and competent woman he had ever known. No one made him feel as relaxed and as much as his old self as she did. No one else could make him smile and laugh as much as she. There was no one else. Had never been anyone else, and would never be anyone else.

            Isabel was still looking at him expectantly, and he realized that he hadn’t answered her question. But what could he say?

            “I…” he cleared his throat. “That’s difficult to explain.”

            “They say I’m not completely dense,” Isabel said, smiling. “Why don’t you try me?”

            Cullen stood up, making her back away a couple of steps to make space for him. Placing his hands at her hips, he pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers, hoping that in some way he could convey at least some of the feelings that he wasn’t quite ready to speak out loud. Isabel returned the kiss with fervor, her arms moving around his shoulders and her body pushing against his.

            But when he made an attempt to lift her up on the desk, she resisted and broke the kiss. They stared at each other for a moment, out of breath and flushed. Cullen leaned in to kiss her again, but she took a step backwards, and shook her head. Had her arms not still been around his shoulders and his hands at her hips he would have worried that she was going to reject him, but she made no move to leave and she wasn’t looking angry.

            “It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me,” she said, her voice breathless. “I won’t press it. At least not for the time being. But it’s my turn now.”

            Cullen frowned, not understanding her meaning. Then she pushed him back into his chair and kneeled in front of him, and he shook his head as he finally understood with perfect clarity what she had in mind.

            “No,” he said, his voice hoarse as his body screamed yes.

            Isabel looked up at him through dark eyelashes, placing her hands on his knees and slowly sliding them up along his thighs. “It is only fair,” she reminded him.

            Cullen shook his head again. He had never allowed anyone to do this to him, always fearing that loss of control. The sight of Isabel kneeling between his thighs was incredibly exciting though, and he was struggling with the conflicting emotions of wanting her so very badly, and fearing what it might do to him.

            “You don’t need to do this,” he croaked, trying to ignore the feeling of her hands against his thighs as she moved them up and down, trailing her fingertips lightly over the fabric of his breeches.

                        “Oh, but I want to,” she said with a smile as she placed a soft kiss against the inside of his thigh. Even through his clothes it was wildly erotic. How was he going to survive skin against skin?

            She straightened up a little and looked at him, maybe sensing his inner struggle. “Unless you don’t want me to, Cullen? I don’t want to do anything against your will.”

            Cullen stared at her helplessly. How could he deny her anything?


	13. Letting Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it might still be Thursday in some parts of the world - so let's pretend I'm posting this on time, shall we? NSFW/Smut to follow. Still learning to write it, so please bear with me as I learn!
> 
> As always, thank you all for your lovely comments and for those leaving kudos. I love seeing the little notifications that someone's left a comment!

* * *

 

Isabel’s fingertips rested lightly against his thighs as she was waiting for an answer, her green eyes clear and bright. Cullen felt himself straining against the front of his breeches, his body definitely betraying how he felt about the prospect.

            “Cullen?” His name was a soft query on her lips, and he nodded tersely, not trusting his voice.

            It was enough though. A smile was playing at the corner of her lips as she slid her hands up along his thighs to the laces holding his breeches together. Cullen watched helplessly as she untied the knots, her knuckles and fingers lightly brushing against his erection. He might have forgotten to breathe for a moment as the laces came undone and Isabel could pull down the fabric to free him. When she tugged at his breeches he lifted himself off the chair briefly to aid her, and she pulled them down to his knees, leaving his thighs and crotch bare to her touch and gaze.

            Isabel’s eyes fastened on his hard cock, which twitched in response. Maker, she hadn’t even touched him yet, and he felt as if he was burning up. She trailed light fingertips along the inside of his thigh, sending tingles through his body. She did this several times, moving her hands slowly up and down along his thighs, brushing against his cock, but never quite touching it. Cullen impossibly felt himself grow even harder.

            The next time her fingers came back up to his crotch, she trailed her fingernails ever so softly, barely touching him, along his cock and he groaned. It was torture. Sweet and erotic, but torture nonetheless. Isabel switched her nails for her fingertips, tracing the outline of his erection, before finally grabbing it fully with her hand. Cullen couldn’t quite believe what was happening, fighting very hard to remain in control as Isabel slid her hand up and down his cock. His hands were desperately grabbing the chair’s armrests and holding on for dear life.

            Isabel noticed, and let her hands rest on his thighs again for a moment. Meeting his eyes she smiled a little. “Relax, Cullen. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

            “I know you won’t,” he grunted. “I’m not worried that you will hurt me.”

            She kissed one of his hands just above the knuckles, and then the other, making him relax his grip slightly.

            “One might think you’re going to your execution,” she joked.

            “No, it’s just…” Cullen groaned as she trailed her fingers up along his cock again, twirling around the head. “No one’s ever… I’ve never allowed anyone to…”

            Isabel’s hands stilled and she looked up at him in surprise. “Really? Never?”

            He shook his head. “Never,” he confirmed.

            “Why not?” Her head was tilted slightly to the side as she eyed him quizzically. Maybe she hadn’t realized, but she was moving her hands up and down his cock again, making it very difficult to focus.

            “I… It’s a control thing,” he admitted. “I don’t like losing control.”

            Isabel seemed to mull it over for a moment, then she nodded. “I understand.” She smiled, and it made him feel all tingly inside. “I’m very grateful that you trust me enough to let me do this.”

            Cullen nodded jerkily. His body was wound as tight as a feather, and he worried he might snap soon. Isabel leaned in closer, and he could feel her breath fanning his cock. The anticipation of what she might do next was nearly killing him. Then she touched him with her tongue, sliding it from the base all along the shaft, to finally flick over the very tip of him. She swirled her tongue around for a moment, before taking the head into her hot, wet mouth and sucked.

            Letting out a loud moan, Cullen gripped the chair’s armrests again. Nothing had ever prepared him for the sensation of Isabel’s mouth on his cock. It was nothing like anything he’d ever experienced before. As she took him deeper he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, loving the feeling while at the same time fighting to regain any semblance of control and sanity.

            As Isabel continued doing deliciously wicked things to him, Cullen considered silently reciting the Chant of Light to keep himself from finishing too soon. Because what she was doing was amazing, and as worried as he might be about losing control, he also enjoyed it immensely. Maybe a little bit too much. Her hot, wet mouth on and around his cock was almost more than he could handle, and he had to refrain himself from moving his hips in response.

            Letting go of the armrests he moved his hands to gently remove the pins holding Isabel’s hair up, letting it tumble down her back. He loved the silken tresses of her hair, and dared a glance down. It was a mistake. Seeing Isabel’s lips around him was nearly worse than feeling them. He closed his eyes, grabbed a fistful of her hair in his hand and tried to remember the Chant of Light. The words wouldn’t come to him though, his mind consumed by the woman on her knees in front of him and what she was doing to him.

            “Oh Maker,” he groaned as Isabel swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock before taking it in her mouth again and sucking, while one of her hands moved along the base. He wasn’t going to last much longer. The feeling was too intense, and he could feel his muscles tighten.

            “Isabel…” He was just about to warn her when someone knocked on the door. Cullen opened his eyes in shock, Isabel looking equally stunned. Why hadn’t they locked the door?

            The door started swinging open and Isabel quickly crawled backwards in underneath the desk. Cullen moved the chair forward, needing to hide the fact that his breeches were bunched around his knees. He was glad to have a fairly large desk, but even so, it must be a tight fit for Isabel where she was squashed between him and the front panel. A moment later Varric entered the room.

            “Hey Curly,” he said as he looked around the room. “Have you seen your sister?”

            Cullen shook his head, even as he could feel Isabel silently giggling under the desk. “N… No. I haven’t seen her.”

            “Really?” Varric looked surprised. “I saw her walk through your door not that long ago.”

            “Oh. Right.” Cullen watched as Varric took another few steps into the room, praying that he wouldn’t come too much closer or he might notice Cullen’s lack of trousers. And decency.

            “She… Oh!” He stifled a gasp as he felt Isabel’s fingertips gently trace a line across the inside of his thigh. “She was here. But she left.”

            Varric was looking at him now, seeming somewhat amused. “Left where? I wanted to talk to her. She had some pretty interesting ideas for one of my novels.”

            Trying to ignore Isabel’s hands teasing him under the desk, Cullen nodded towards the other door leading out onto the ramparts. “She went to her room in the other tower, I believe.”

            “Great! I’ll see if I can catch her.” Varric crossed the room and opened the other door, but before leaving he turned around and grinned. “Oh, and say hello to your little friend below the desk, Curly.”

            Cullen blanched, and even Isabel stopped moving.

            Varric chuckled. “You need to work on your poker face. If you see your sister before I do by the way, let her know I was looking for her, yeah?” With that the dwarf turned around and left.

            When the door had closed behind him, Cullen scooted the chair backwards, letting Isabel out. She stood up and leaned back against the desk. They stared at each other for a moment, then Isabel started laughing. It took him a moment longer, but soon Cullen found himself laughing with her. They laughed together for some time, before finally getting a hold of themselves, though Isabel was still grinning widely.

            “Of course I forget something as basic as locking the door,” she said, letting out a little giggle. “Some days I wonder how I managed to kill an Archdemon.”

            Pulling up his trousers, but not bothering to lace them up, Cullen smiled. “I’m just glad he didn’t realize it was you under the desk.”

            “Now _that_ would have been awkward,” Isabel agreed with a grin.

            Cullen shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was still hard and his cock was chafing against the front of his breeches. Isabel noticed, took a couple of steps forward to stand between his knees, and slid her arms around his neck so that she could bury her hands in the hair at the back of his neck.

            “You know,” she said teasingly, looking down at him. “I could help you with that.”

            Groaning at the very thought, Cullen grabbed her bum in his hands and pulled her closer. Isabel leaned down to press her lips against his, and Cullen greedily kissed her, wanting to do so much more as his body was aching with need. His hands slid up her back and onto her shoulders as she broke the kiss and kneeled down in front of him again. She teased him by placing a soft kiss on his erection through the cloth of his breeches, making him moan. Cullen closed his eyes as Isabel’s hand found its way under the fabric of his clothes to grip his hard cock.

            When a knock sounded, he cursed out loud and sat up straighter in the chair to stare at the offending door. Isabel had quickly scrambled to her feet and moved a few steps over to the side, and was now casually leaning against the side of the desk. She’d just managed to smooth her hair back when a scout came into the room.

            “Commander,” he said, still looking at the documents in his hands. “I have some correspondence and reports for you.”

            “Just leave it on the desk,” Cullen barked, feeling irrationally angry.

            The scout looked up from his papers to stare at them. Catching sight of Isabel he bowed his head in greeting, saying nervously, “Miss Rutherford. I’m sorry for interrupting your time with your brother… I just have these…”

            “Give them here,” Cullen interrupted him, wanting him gone as quickly as possible. To his dismay he was quite sure it was the same scout who had interrupted them out on the ramparts previously.

            Looking somewhat apprehensive about getting too close to his angry commander the man swiftly dropped the pile of documents on Cullen’s desk before leaving the room as quickly as possible.

            Isabel turned to Cullen, a dark eyebrow raised and a half-smile on her lips. “That poor man must think you’re always in a horrible mood.”

            Cullen nodded. “They all think I’m a grouch.”

            “I can’t believe I forgot to lock the door again,” Isabel mused. “I could definitely never be a spy.”

            “Even if you did, they would probably keep coming,” Cullen muttered. “They’re used to my door always being open.”

            Isabel giggled. “They’d pile up outside!”

            A smile tugged at the corners of Cullen’s lips at the mental image that evoked. He watched Isabel as she grinned, still amused by the idea. His entire body ached from wanting her, and he was realizing that he was never going to be able to resist her. He’d never wanted anything – or anyone – as much as he wanted her. Now was not the time though. It was probably only a matter of minutes before the next person came knocking on his door.

            If he was a better man perhaps he could stay away from her, but he was fast losing that battle.

            “I don’t think this is happening today,” Isabel sighed. “I will go find Varric.”

            Cullen nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

            Isabel winked. “I’m counting on it.”


End file.
